Reddit Account: aelfin
Discord Tag: Bolt1219
Name and House: Dorian Hightower
Age: 80
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Once tall and strong and proud -- a knight of renown -- the passage of time has seen fit to humble Dorian Hightower. The gold-brown hair of his youth has bleached to silver, his countenance marked by wrinkles. He wears his hair long, often unbound that it frames his features. His beard is neatly styled. Despite the betrayal of his body, Dorian's eyes remain sharp and quick, and his smile is that of a younger man.
Trait: Mastermind
Skill(s): Devious(e), Espionage(e), Assassin
Talent(s): Napping, Meandering, Gardening
Negative Trait(s): Sickly
Starting Title(s): Beacon of the South, Defender of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Lord of Oldtown, Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Voice of Oldtown
Starting Location: Starting Event
Alternate Characters: n/a
Biogaphy Early Life
In 55BC, under a golden sun in the bustling city of Oldtown, Dorian Hightower was born the second son to Lord Leyton Hightower and his wife Leona Bulwer. His early childhood was marked by a sense of curiosity and an inherent noble pride that was expected of a Hightower; against a backdrop filled with the sounds of the bustling harbour, the smell of the sea, and the sight of a forest of sails coming and going. Oft he would watch the ships as they sailed away and wondered where they went
From a young age, Dorian showed a keen interest in learning and the world around him. His education was that expected of one of his lineage; lessons with the Maester were as important as that of his martial education. At just ten, he was sent to Highgarden to squire for House Gardener. There, amidst the vibrant gardens and rich traditions of the Reach, he learned the values of chivalry, honour, and the importance of duty. His time at Highgarden left a lasting impression on him, fostering a deep respect for the knightly traditions that would shape his later life -- which would make the later actions of the Tyrells sting all the more,
At one-and-seven, Dorian’s path took a scholarly turn. Sent to study at the Citadel, immersed in the halls of knowledge, he began forging his maester's chain, dedicating himself to the studies of copper for history, bronze for astronomy, and iron for warcraft. His mentors noted a sharp intellect and strategic mind, qualities that would serve him well in the years to come.
The Heir to the Hightower
In 35 BC, a marriage united Dorian with Leila Tarly, a match both strategic and affectionate. At the age of twnety Dorian became a father, welcoming his first child, Garlan, into the world. Over the years, the Hightower family grew with the births of Garmund, Delena, Owen, and Lynesse. Each child brought new joy and responsibility, shaping Dorian into a devoted father and a wise lord.
The Stranger visited the Hightowers in 20 BC, when Dorian's older brother, Leyton, the heir to the Hightower, was lost in a shipwreck while returning from a journey to Braavos. At five-and-twenty, Dorian was thrust into the role of heir, a position he had not anticipated. Embracing his new responsibilities with determination, he began learning the intricacies of rule, administration, and justice from his father. Living in Oldtown, the heart of the Faith of the Seven, also imparted a deep spiritual awareness in Dorian. The more he learned, the more he was put into positions of authority. Initially undertaking a role as his father's Steward, Dorian learned quickly that he was much too bored by numbers to be anything close to competent. He was better at dealing with people.
Through his dealings his network grew, and this network, he recognised, could be turned toward the flow of information. The ships he had watched as a boy carried trade, but they also carried words from half the world away. If he could find a way to hear those words before any else, he'd have an advantage -- not only in trade, but in politics as well. Setting to work, Dorian used his House's name to tour as often as he could, finding those in key places that would serve his ends for the right price.
Life and Trials
As the head of House Hightower, Dorian instilled in his family a profound sense of fairness and the importance of knightly traditions. He stressed the values of chivalry and gallantry, ensuring that these principles were deeply rooted in the Hightower legacy. His household became known for its adherence to these values, earning respect and admiration throughout the Reach.
He was an avid hunter, frequently organising grand hunting expeditions in the lands surrounding Oldtown. Not merely for sport, these hunts also served as opportunities to bond with his children and vassals. One notable hunt saw Dorian bring down a formidable stag, a feat that became legendary in his household.
Dorian’s daughter Delena married Harlan Tyrell after a secret tryst, a match that Dorian did not initially support but ultimately was forced to accept. His youngest daughter, Lynesse, found a husband in Willem Ryger. A man whom Dorian had mentored in the art of espionage, and who would later go on to prove the most succesful spymaster in the country.
Feasts at the Hightower were grand affairs, known throughout the Reach for their opulence and hospitality. Dorian believed in the power of communal gatherings, often using these occasions to strengthen alliances and resolve disputes. The harvest feast was a particularly notable event, drawing his vassals to Oldtown to celebrate the bounty of the land, and to reaffirm their loyalty to House Hightower.
From the Ashes:
Family life, however, was not without its hardships, and the Hightowers not immune to tragedy. The House faced a profound loss when Garlan, Dorian's eldest son, was killed on the Field of Fire, turned to ash by dragonfire. This tragedy left Garlan's young son, Gwayne, as Dorian's heir, a heavy burden for the grieving boy to bear at such a young age. By then Dorian was a man nearing his sixtieth decade, not young by any stretch, and so particularly attension was paid to Gwayne's education near to the exclusion of all else. A small army of learned men were brought in to cover every aspect that would eventually be required of him. Dorian hardly went anywhere without his grandson in tow. The Seven Kingdoms might have been united, but the dawn of this new age was eclipsed by Dorian's fears that he would pass before his heir was ready, and he had known many a House felled by the poorly equipped.
Dorian levied from Lord Hightower against House Costayne of having refused the call to rally at Oldtown, backed by the word of the High Septon. A host marched on Three Towers but was met with denial from Lord Costayne who eventually demanded a trial by combat. Gyles Gardener offered himself as champion, and for his victory was given rule over Three Towers, with the fallen lord’s kin being exiled to Essos. Aegon Targaryen was crowned in the Starry Sept upon their return.
In 8AC, a band of sellswords by the name of the Black Roses arrived in Oldtown, headed up by Harlon Costayne, offering cheap mercenaries for the city and protection for its trade. Dorian put to them a challenge, a trial by combat to determine if the Seven stood with the Roses. Pit against a knight of Oldtown, the Black Roses emerged the victorious party, and Dorian issued them leave to remain so long as they served the Reach and her interests.
25AC
Life is a loan, and eventually all men's accounts are settled in full. Having passed into his eightieth year, Dorian Hightower knows the end is nearing for him. Age wracks his body, though his mind remains sharp. He has prepared his grandson as best as he could have done, and all that remains is the wait until his last, content in the knowledge. For the first time in a decade, the Lord of the Hightower has descended from his perch and travels towards King's Landing.
Timeline:
55 BC - Birth of Dorian Hightower

• Born in Oldtown under a golden sun, second son to Lord Leyton Hightower and Leona Bulwer.
• Early childhood filled with curiosity and noble pride, amidst the bustling harbor and forest of sails.

45 BC - Dorian Sent to Highgarden

• At ten, Dorian begins to squire for House Gardener at Highgarden.
• Learns values of chivalry, honor, and duty which leave a lasting impression.

38 BC - Scholarly Pursuits at the Citadel

• At seventeen, Dorian studies at the Citadel.
• Forges his maester's chain with links of copper (history), bronze (astronomy), and iron (warcraft).

35 BC - Marriage to Leila Tarly

• Dorian marries Leila Tarly, a strategic and affectionate match.

35 BC - 30 BC - Birth of Children

• Garlan Hightower is born when Dorian is twenty.
• Followed by Garmund, Delena, Owen, and Lynesse over the next five years.

20 BC - Death of Leyton Hightower

• Dorian's older brother Leyton dies in a shipwreck, making Dorian the heir at twenty-five.
• Dorian starts learning rule, administration, and justice from his father, becoming his Steward.

15 BC - 10 BC - Expansion of Dorian's Network

• Dorian uses House Hightower's name and tours frequently to build a network for intelligence.

10 BC - Dorian Becomes Lord Hightower

• Dorian instills values of fairness and knightly traditions in his family.
• Known for organizing grand hunting expeditions and legendary feats.

5 BC - Marriage of Daughters

• Delena marries Harlan Tyrell after a secret tryst.
• Lynesse marries Willem Ryger, a man mentored by Dorian.

5 BC - 1 BC - Grand Feasts and Gatherings

• Feasts at the Hightower are renowned for their opulence and hospitality.
• The harvest feast draws vassals to Oldtown to celebrate and reaffirm loyalty.

0 AC - Tragedy at the Field of Fire

• Garlan, Dorian's eldest son, is killed in battle.
• Garlan's son, Gwayne, becomes Dorian's heir, leading to intense focus on his education.

5 AC - Conflict with House Costayne

• Dorian accuses House Costayne of refusing to rally at Oldtown.
• A host marches on Three Towers; Lord Costayne demands trial by combat.
• Gyles Gardener wins and takes rule over Three Towers.

8 AC - Arrival of the Black Roses

• The Black Roses, a sellsword company, arrives in Oldtown.
• Dorian issues them a trial by combat; they emerge victorious and are allowed to stay.

25 AC - Dorian Prepares for the End

• Travels to King's Landing for the first time in a decade, content with his preparations.

AC
Name and House: Gwayne Hightower
Age: 30
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Gwayne stands the perfect example of the Hightower ideal; in him are the echoes of his father and his grandfather and the knightly traditions of the Hightower. He boasts hazel-hued eyes that are dominant green, alight with curiosity. His hair seems to shfit between a gold and a shade dark brown dependant on the light. Oft seen in the colours of his house; smoke greys cut with whites or greens.
Trait: Champion,
Skill(s): Swords, Andal Knight(e)
Talent(s): Hunting, Hawking, Harp
Negative Trait(s): n/a
Starting Title(s): Heir to the Hightower, Ser
Starting Location: Starting Event
Alternate Characters:n/a
Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/#view:SZ32K
Biography:
Born in 5BC, the firstborn son to Garlan Hightower, Gwayne was bathed in a viridescent light, anointed with the seven oils and named in the rainbow of light that filled the sept in the Hightower. This act alone is reserved for the heirs to the Hightower, a ceremony to mark them from birth as defenders of the Faith. His early life was a happy one, though he recalls little of the time. His mother and father were truly in love. Only two years later after his birth would his brother follow, and their two sisters after them. His grandfather's hall and hearth was filled with the laughter of children.
It was Garlan Hightower who held command of the Hightower host the fateful day that dragonfire swept across the Field of Fire, who perished there on the field, and whose bones were turned to ash and no longer able to be laid to rest. Gwayne was too young to grasp the reality of it, and before long his Grandfather had him learning with such intensity that he hardly had time to process the fact his father wasn't coming home.
Life turned into a steady routine of learning. His lessons consisted of how to act at court, his histories, his number and letters, and martial training in the yard. He would be woken before the dawn and not be permitted to bed until the sun had slipped away and night had fallen. Recklessly bold, oft he would attempt to climb the exterior of the Hightower and be scolded for the act if discovered.
His first true test at arms came when in the form of pirates. They had made their home in a cove and would strike out at ships fat and ripe with goods. Gwayne rode out with a small band of men, headed up by his uncle, Owen. For a week they scoured the coastline looking for signs of their quarry, and eventually, one night, sky unclouded and stars bright, they saw the fires. Come the dawn the charge of the Reachmen sent the pirates srambling for their weapons, and though they put up a fight, they were cut down to a man and their ships burned. Of those that surrendered, they would hang at the port in Oldtown as a stark reminder. For his bravery Gwayne was given their Valyrian Steel sword, Vigilance, upon his return.
He would seek out his glory in the lists after that, travelling the length of the Seven Kingdoms looking to make his name as a knight. Tourney followed tourney, but at each stop he remembered to paya visit to the local Sept and offer prayer. He lent a hand where he could. Sometimes he found friends, sometimes he found foe.
When the Orphans of the Fire descended on the Reach, Gwayne wished to march out and chase them down, but Dorian refused him -- and as well he did, for the chaos wrought by the Orphans might have claimed him, and Dorian was adamant that he would not lose another heir to fire. The inaction rankled at Gwayne, but he heeded his grandfather's words all the same.
Now, in 25AC, with Dorian ailing and a celebration called, Gwayne travels toward the event and prepares himself for what may come.
Timeline: 5 BC - Birth of Gwayne Hightower

• Born as the firstborn son to Garlan Hightower in the Hightower.
• Anointed with the seven oils and named in a ceremony reserved for heirs, marking him as a defender of the Faith.

3 BC - Birth of Gwayne's Brother

• Gwayne's brother is born, followed by two sisters, filling their grandfather's hall with children's laughter.

0 AC - Death of Garlan Hightower

• Gwayne's father, Garlan, perishes in the Field of Fire.
• Gwayne, too young to fully understand, is immersed in intense learning by his grandfather, Dorian Hightower.

1 AC - 15 AC - Intensive Education and Martial Training

• Gwayne's routine includes court etiquette, history, numbers, letters, and martial training.
• Known for his reckless boldness, he often attempts to climb the exterior of the Hightower.

15 AC - First Test of Arms Against Pirates

• Gwayne rides out with his uncle Owen and a small band of men to combat pirates.
• After a week, they locate and defeat the pirates, hanging the survivors in Oldtown.
• Gwayne is awarded the Valyrian Steel sword, Vigilance, for his bravery.

16 AC - 23 AC - Knighthood and Tournament Circuit

• Gwayne travels the Seven Kingdoms seeking glory in jousting tournaments.
• Pays visits to local Septs to offer prayers and help where needed, making friends and foes along the way.

20 AC - Orphans of the Fire Incident

• The Orphans of the Fire descend on the Reach.
• Gwayne wishes to march out but is restrained by Dorian, preventing potential harm.

25 AC - Current Events

• With Dorian ailing, Gwayne prepares for a celebration in King's Landing, aware of the responsibilities and challenges ahead.

Arrows from bright, unbroken skies are falling down into the eyes of a man who is searching, yearning to find fantastical vistas inside of his mind.
The warming rays illuminate for him branching paths from which to choose again– one that's been taken, one yet to be tread, but both wild new worlds inside of his head.
This time his inspiration can be found in gentle giants rooted deep in the ground; how they sway and creak and seem to speak to all those venturing outside to seek a piece of peace amidst their stoic presence or words of wisdom in their silent essence.
For some small creatures, they can be a stage on which to sing or dance or at times engage with the birds and the bees in a compilation, played in a theater with living foundations.
More wonders walk under that green ceiling seeking its cover to avoid revealing themselves to any from the world outside, wary of the dangers when worlds collide.
These are the stewards of this grand old hall where, when no one’s watching, silent things fall to the ground, decay, and become the soil that all things need and in which men toil.
Yet these men who venture out to work and play within this world–this great green bouquet– struggle to stop for, much less ever smell, the wonders, like roses, wherever they dwell; wonders like giants growing so tall and so green that they create, in morning sun, a scene of arrows from bright, unbroken skies falling down into my eyes.

Arrows from bright, unbroken skies are falling down into the eyes of a man who is searching, yearning to find fantastical vistas inside of his mind.
The warming rays illuminate for him branching paths from which to choose again– one that's been taken, one yet to be tread, but both wild new worlds inside of his head.
This time his inspiration can be found in gentle giants rooted deep in the ground; how they sway and creak and seem to speak to all those venturing outside to seek a piece of peace amidst their stoic presence or words of wisdom in their silent essence.
For some small creatures, they can be a stage on which to sing or dance or at times engage with the birds and the bees in a compilation, played in a theater with living foundations.
More wonders walk under that green ceiling seeking its cover to avoid revealing themselves to any from the world outside, wary of the dangers when worlds collide.
These are the stewards of this grand old hall where, when no one’s watching, silent things fall to the ground, decay, and become the soil that all things need and in which men toil.
Yet these men who venture out to work and play within this world–this great green bouquet– struggle to stop for, much less ever smell, the wonders, like roses, wherever they dwell; wonders like giants growing so tall and so green that they create, in morning sun, a scene of arrows from bright, unbroken skies falling down into my eyes.

Arrows from bright, unbroken skies are falling down into the eyes of a man who is searching, yearning to find fantastical vistas inside of his mind.
The warming rays illuminate for him branching paths from which to choose again– one that's been taken, one yet to be tread, but both wild new worlds inside of his head.
This time his inspiration can be found in gentle giants rooted deep in the ground; how they sway and creak and seem to speak to all those venturing outside to seek a piece of peace amidst their stoic presence or words of wisdom in their silent essence.
For some small creatures, they can be a stage on which to sing or dance or at times engage with the birds and the bees in a compilation, played in a theater with living foundations.
More wonders walk under that green ceiling seeking its cover to avoid revealing themselves to any from the world outside, wary of the dangers when worlds collide.
These are the stewards of this grand old hall where, when no one’s watching, silent things fall to the ground, decay, and become the soil that all things need and in which men toil.
Yet these men who venture out to work and play within this world–this great green bouquet– struggle to stop for, much less ever smell, the wonders, like roses, wherever they dwell; wonders like giants growing so tall and so green that they create, in morning sun, a scene of arrows from bright, unbroken skies falling down into my eyes.

Hello,
The tomatoes are in full force for me here in Houston. I am growing 27 varieties this year, a mix of hybrids and heirlooms, mostly new to me. I wanted to share some preliminary thoughts. I didn't start them all at the same time so I haven't gotten to taste them all yet.
I am pruning my larger slicing tomatoes to a single leader.
So far I have tried, Margold - grown before, Pink Berkeley Tie Dye - Grown Before, Black Krim - Grown Before, Supersweet 100 - grown before, Cherry Brandywine - grown before, and I think the rest are new to me. Riesentraube, Burmese Sour, Purple Boy, Margaret Curtain, Brown Sugar, Prudens Purple, Pink Boar, Sunset Torch, Red Torch, Blue Cream Berry, Edox, Black Cherry
For the ones I have grown before Margold is producing very well. These plants make all sizes of tomato, some softball size and some more like a tennis ball, they are yellow with a beautiful red blush and are juicy while also being dense and meaty, low acid, floral/fruity, and absolutely delicious. I will always grow this tomato.
Pink Berkeley Tie dye is another favorite, to me it has the flavor of a brown/purple tomato while also having the acid I like in a tomato so it is a nice mix. My two plants have also been very prolific and one also died suddenly! Ha. This is my first year experimenting with growing some tomatoes directly in the ground and I guess it is more perilous! The rest of my tomatoes are in raised beds.
Black Krim - obviously great, we know it and love it, my plant got bacterial stem rot and is somehow still growing and producing/setting fruit. I know I should remove the plant but I haven't.
So now for Margaret Curtain, Carbon, and Purple Boy. To me these and Black Krim all taste more or less the same. I've only had one or two from each plant but don't notice any big difference and think growing one of these would probably be fine.
The Margaret curtain has set the most fruit and a lot of very big tomatoes, but like the margold, some are softball size, some tennis ball size, but I am very impressed with the level of production.
Carbon, poor production, good fruit set on first cluster and then pretty much done.
Purple Boy, absymal. This is a Hybrid and I am shocked by its poor performance. Even as a seedling it was a thin, wimpy, wispy and slow growing pathetic specimen that I wasn't sure would live. Not comparable at all to other hybrids. When the plant was about 3 1/2 feet tall I did accidentally break off the central leader and that slowed the growth but even at that point it had only set one fruit. It has since rebounded in growth with several flower clusters but it has yet to set another fruit. The tomato tasted good and like the other dark ones mentioned but absolutely piss poor vigor and fruit set.
Brown Sugar - nice fruit set and clusters of medium size tomatoes, they are mostly between the size of a clementine and a tennis ball. I have only tasted one, and maybe I didn't let it ripen enough but it was nothing special, not particularly sweet or flavorful.
Burmese Sour - I chose to grow these, perhaps incorrectly, thinking that my hot and humid climate would be similar to that of Burma. But who knows. This plant was the first to look diseased with black spots on the foliage, it is not particularly vigorous and stopped growing taller around the 3 1/2 foot mark. But! It has set a lot of fruit so it is kind of winning me over. Apparently these tomatoes are meant to be used in curries where you wouldn't want a sweet tomato. I tasted one raw and I liked it. It was very bright and refreshing, like a nice tomato taste with the acidity turned up. These are also very pretty with that classic heirloom shape like costoluto genovese.
Pink Boar - maybe I am missing something here but its just like a smaller version of pink berkeley tie dye. Probably won't grow again.
Prudens Purple - This is the standout new tomato so far. Good production/fruit set of very large fruits. I had a miserable experience with Pink Brandywine last year and I think this is probably the answer to that. When I first tasted it I was just like, this is what I want a tomato to taste like. This is the tomato you want to put on a burger. Meaty, juicy, not much gel, good acid and I guess this is what people mean when they say "old fashioned" tomato flavor. I will grow this again and probably every year unless something tops it.
Now for the cherries
Riesentraube - extremely slow/late to produce and not prolific at all. I've so far harvested two tomatoes and they taste pretty good but not worth the pathetic performance unless it really gets going later in the season.
Blue Cream Berry - Not for me at all. No acid, just sweet, no tomato flavor. These reminded me of the green doctors tomatoes I grew last year and did not like either. I am learning that I really need acid in a tomato and dont like them to be so sweet. I'm not growing sungolds this year for that reason (too sweet, they do have some acid). Last year my savory dishes were borderline too sweet/more desert like because of the sweetness of the sungolds and the green doctors. Blue cream berry is in that same category like sweet and bland and not tomatoey. Also a slow grower, slow producer, generally unhealthy seeming plant, it must know that i don't like it!.
Sunset Torch/Red Torch - these are hybrids, first time growing. These are quite large for a small cluster tomato, they are kind of like romas but half the size. They are very pretty and the sunset torch taste really good. They have kind of a mild flavor but it is a tomato flavor and they remind me of the margold kind of, like floral and fruity. I guess that is the yellow tomato taste. The red torch I think I haven't had one ripe enough yet but their taste hasn't wowed me yet. Both of these plants are have great vigor, they are like 3X the size of my riesentraube and blue cream berry. They have great fruit set and will grow again just because of how prolific they are.
Edox - hybrid. Good fruit set, vigor and production. Blah taste. These are red cherries and they have to be really really really dark red and ripe to have much flavor at all and when they do its like the expensive cherries on the vine in the grocery store. Probably won't grow again, just meh.
Black cherry - slow going and not much fruit set but it seems to be getting a little better now, the fruits I had were really good and tasted like carbon/black krim/margaret curtain etc. Will grow again, maybe two plants if the production doesn't improve.
Supersweet 100 - grown before, this is probably the gold standard to me of a red cherry. Prolific, productive, good tomato flavor, sweet and acidic. Not much else to say. To me it isn't knock your socks off out of this world good but it is definitely worth growing.
Cherry Brandywine - Determinate. These are probably the best tasting cherries I have grown, Similar flavor to the prudens purple. They are prolific and I love that they are determinate and you can harvest a lot all at once. Short plants with great tasting tomatoes and they are early to produce. Last year I grew one and wish I grew more, growing two this year and maybe 3 next year!
I still have a bunch of tomatoes that I haven't gotten to try yet, mostly hybrids. Grand Marshall, Skyway, Brandy Boy, Big Beef, Granadero, can't think of them all. So far the vigor and fruit set are great but we will have to see about the taste!!
Time will tell. If anyone read all this... wow! Happy gardening :)

As far back as I can remember, I had always been passionate about the great outdoors. My love for the wilderness began when I joined the scouts, exploring the diverse landscapes of Southern California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah. I was never a huge fan of the dry, barren landscapes, but camping provided a much-needed escape from the monotony of Orange County suburbia.
The first time I visited the Pacific Northwest, I was enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking—majestic mountains, lush fields, and meandering rivers. It was clear that anyone who praised the desert's beauty had never laid eyes on the Cascades. Seeing grass and wildflowers growing without irrigation was practically a revelation.
When I was old enough, I moved to Washington state, immersing myself in nature every weekend. My adventures took me hiking through dense forests, camping by serene lakes, and occasionally taking mushrooms under peaceful waterfalls.
I joined several online forums dedicated to outdoor enthusiasts. One community that particularly fascinated me was the Northwest Tomb Raiders. This group of history buffs and thrill-seekers was dedicated to uncovering artifacts, whether Native American relics or treasures hidden in modern ruins. Many members were collectors, fencing their finds to museums and archaeologists, which made it a rather profitable side gig, should you be lucky enough.
In the fall of 2009, an intriguing post appeared on the forum. A user named Lokk claimed to have discovered a cache of artifacts with Scandinavian origins. He couldn't carry everything back due to the treacherous terrain and his age, so he shared the coordinates, hoping someone else could retrieve the items. I scrolled down to see a few posts of people planning to loot it in the Spring, when the paths have reopened. One user, Patagooner, planned on going as early as possible.
Excited by the prospect, I gathered my two friends, Carl and Noah, for the expedition. They weren't as enthusiastic about camping as I was, but after I told them how much a single arrowhead goes for on the black market, they were on board. It was the start of winter now, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, the rangers would have a harder time spotting us. On the downside, the harsh conditions posed a serious challenge for two inexperienced hikers.
I must’ve blown about four grand at REI on gear for them, justifying it with the knowledge of how much more I would make with two extra packs. That is of course assuming there really were as many artifacts as Lokk had said, and Patagooner hadn’t beaten me there.
The journey began like any other. We met in the pre-dawn darkness and went over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we needed. By mid-morning, we were on our way, my pickup truck winding up the mountain paths. The roads of Olympic National Park were the epitome of the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
They snake through ancient forests, where towering Douglas firs and Western hemlocks create a verdant canopy overhead. Mist clings to the trees, giving the landscape an ethereal quality. Occasionally, the forest would open up to reveal breathtaking vistas of snow-capped peaks and deep, shadowy valleys.
As we climbed higher, the landscape grew increasingly desolate. The dense forest thinned out, replaced by rugged terrain and jagged rock formations. The air grew colder, and the first flurries of snow began to fall, dusting the ground in a thin, white layer. The road became narrower and more treacherous, winding precariously along the edge of steep cliffs.
Finally, a road closure blockade signaled the end of our journey in the truck. We unloaded three dirt bikes—one mine, two rentals—and continued up the trail. The bikes roared to life, carrying us several more miles into the wilderness. The trail twisted and turned, cutting through dense underbrush and over fallen logs. The snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the forest floor and muffling the sound of our engines. The world around us grew quieter, more isolated.
Eventually, the snow became too deep to traverse by bike. We dismounted and prepared to continue on foot. The silence of the forest was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. I checked my modern GPS, its screen displaying the coordinates and a relief map of our destination.
The cold air bit into our cheeks as we trudged through the snow-laden forest. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps and the occasional call of distant wildlife. The GPS indicated we were close to our destination, but the dense underbrush and uneven terrain made progress slow.
Suddenly, Carl's excited whisper cut through the stillness. "Hey, look at that!"
He pointed to a small, furry creature ambling through the trees. It took a moment to realize what it was—a bear cub, innocently exploring its surroundings.
My heart sank. "Carl, get back," I hissed, my voice low but urgent. "Where there's a cub, there's a..."
Before I could finish, a massive shape exploded from the trees. The mother bear, easily three times the size of the cub, charged at Carl with a ferocity. She was a blur of dark fur and powerful muscles, her roar echoing through the forest.
"Run!" I yelled, but it was too late. The bear was upon Carl, swiping at him with her massive paws. He screamed as he fell to the ground, the bear towering over him. Desperation and adrenaline surged through me. I grabbed the nearest heavy branch and swung it at the bear, hoping to distract her.
Noah joined in, shouting and waving his arms. We had to be careful; one wrong move and she would turn on us. The bear snarled, turning her attention away from Carl for just a moment. It was enough for him to scramble backwards, clutching his bleeding arm.
"We have to get him out of here," I shouted to Noah, who nodded, fear etched on his face. The bear, still enraged, seemed torn between attacking us and protecting her cub.
Using the brief respite, we hauled Carl to his feet. His face was white, and he was clearly in shock. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping onto the snow. "There's a ranger station about two miles from here," I said, my voice shaking. "We need to get him there. Now."
We half-carried, half-dragged Carl through the forest, every shadow and sound heightening our paranoia.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the small, wooden structure of the ranger station came into view. We had been avoiding the rangers to keep our expedition secret, but now it was our only hope.
Pounding on the door, I prayed for a quick response. The door creaked open, and a weathered face appeared. "What happened?" the ranger demanded, taking in the sight of Carl's bloodied form.
"Bear attack," I gasped. "We need help."
The ranger's expression shifted from suspicion to urgency. "Get him inside. We've got a first aid kit and a radio."
As we eased Carl onto a makeshift bed, the ranger inspected his wounds. "You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The cuts are deep, but they missed any major arteries. He'll need stitches, but we can handle that here. No need for an airlift."
The ranger's face darkened as he turned to me. "What the hell are you boys doing out here?”
I hesitated, "We... we were just exploring."
The ranger's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "Exploring? In a restricted area? In the middle of winter? Are you out of your minds?"
He worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and stitching Carl's wounds. Carl winced but stayed silent, his eyes closed in pain.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" the ranger continued, his voice rising. "The storm, the wildlife... This area is off-limits for a reason! You should have known better." he said, pushing a finger into my chest.
"We'll stay here for the night," he continued, "The storm's getting worse, and it's too dangerous to move him now. We'll reassess in the morning. And count yourself lucky I don't arrest your asses."
Night fell quickly, the storm outside growing more ferocious with each passing minute. The howling wind battered the small ranger station, and the walls creaked under the pressure. We huddled in the main room, the tension thick in the air.
The ranger looked at us sternly. "I need to check the perimeter and make sure everything is secure. There are things out there you don’t want to encounter, especially in this storm."
"Things? What do you mean?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ranger's expression hardened. "Just stay put. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave this cabin. Understood?"
We nodded, the seriousness in his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll stay put," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The ranger grabbed his coat and shotgun. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not leave this cabin." With that, he opened the door and stepped into the raging storm, disappearing into the darkness.
As soon as the door closed, I turned to Noah. "We need to go. Now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? He said to stay put."
"If we wait until morning, we'll be escorted out of here and lose our chance. This might be our only opportunity to find those artifacts."
Noah hesitated with uncertainty "But... what about Carl?"
"He'll be fine here. The ranger can take care of him. We have to do this now."
Reluctantly, Noah nodded. "Alright. Let's take what we can and go."
We quickly looted extra gear from the cabin. I checked the GPS one last time before we slipped out into the storm, the cold wind battering us.
The snow fell heavily, obscuring our vision as we slogged through the forest. The ranger was nowhere in sight as we made our way towards the our destination, each step filled with trepidatious excitement.
The storm began to die down as we approached the coordinates. We stepped into a clearing where the undisturbed snow lay like a pristine white blanket. In the center stood an ancient, weathered stone altar, encircled by intricate wooden carvings, delicate metalwork, and beautifully crafted statues. The sight was breathtaking, a treasure trove, a veritable museum of paganism.
Noah and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with amazement. "Do you see this?" I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement.
"We're going to be rich," Noah replied, his voice trembling with awe. "These must be worth a fortune!"
We approached cautiously, as if the vision before us might disappear. The craftsmanship was stunning. I reached out to touch a carved wooden idol, marveling at the detail. "This is incredible," I said, my voice barely audible.
We began to load our packs with as many artifacts as we could carry, each one more exquisite than the last. It was beyond our wildest dreams. We were so engrossed in our task that we didn't notice the small figure watching us from the ridge.
It wasn't until I turned to leave that I saw her. A young girl, maybe eight years old, stood there, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She was dressed in simple, rustic clothing, her blonde straight hair blowing gently in the wind. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Noah," I whispered urgently, nudging him. "Look."
He turned, his eyes following my gaze. "What the...?" he muttered, his voice trailing off.
The girl took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on the items in our hands. There was no fear in her gaze, only a quiet intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She tilted her head slightly. "My name is Sigyn."
"What are you doing out here, Sigyn?" Noah asked, his voice shaky.
"I live here,"
"You live here?" I echoed, incredulous. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where?" Noah demanded, looking around nervously.
"Everywhere," she said with a giggle.
The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, bothered me deeply. Noah and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to figure out what to do next.
"We can't take her back to the ranger," Noah started, "We'll lose everything."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Sigyn," I said slowly, "we need to know who else is here. Can you help us?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes, then said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Noah asked.
"For what's going to happen to you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
"You need to tell us what's going on," Noah said, grabbing her arm roughly. "Why are you out here alone?"
She looked up at him, unperturbed. "I am not alone," she said softly.
Before we could press her further, a loud, guttural mooing sound echoed through the clearing. We turned towards the direction the girl had come from, and there, emerging from the shadows, was the silhouette of an elk. As it approached, my stomach dropped. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of life and decay. Its skull was fully exposed, the eye sockets dark and empty. Large patches of its ribs were visible, the flesh around them rotted away.
The elk's movements were slow and deliberate, its head swaying as if in a trance. It walked directly towards us, its hollow eyes fixed on Sigyn. The closer it got, the more the stench of death filled the air—a nauseating mix of decay and earth. I fought the urge to retch.
Sigyn stood up, her expression calm. The monster sniffed her gently, its nostrils flaring. Without a word, she climbed onto its back, mounting it like a horse. It was a surreal and horrifying scene ripped straight from a nightmare.
As she settled onto the elk, she looked back at us, "A thief in the night shall reap what he sows," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. "Beware the price of stolen dreams."
With that, the beast turned and began to walk away, Sigyn riding it into the shadows of the forest. We stood there, frozen in place. The realization that we were in far over our heads began to sink in. This started to feel like a trap.
We need to get out of here," My voice trembling. "Now."
We turned to leave, our packs heavy with the pilfered goods. But as we took our first steps, the forest around us seemed to come alive. Shadows moved among the trees, and whispers floated on the wind. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" Noah asked sharply,
"Just keep moving," I commanded.
A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. It was a man, tall and gaunt, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.
"We're leaving," I stammered. "We didn't mean any harm."
The man smirked, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand. More figures appeared, closing in on us from all sides. We were surrounded.
"Run!" I shouted, shoving Noah forward.
We sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at our faces and legs. The figures pursued us, their footsteps silent and relentless.
Noah stumbled and fell, his pack spilling open. Statues scattered across the ground, glinting in the moonlight. "Help!" he cried, scrambling to gather the items.
"Leave them!" I shouted, pulling him to his feet. "We have to keep moving!"
But it was too late, their hands seizing us. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grips were too strong. They forced us to the ground, binding our hands with rough, coarse ropes.
"Please," I begged, "Don't hurt us."
The man who had first appeared stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "A thief in the night," he mocked.
They dragged us through the forest, the trees closing in around us like a cage. We were at their mercy.
In the distance, I could see the elk standing at the edge of the clearing, Sigyn still astride its back. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity. But then they turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
We were dragged into the heart of the forest, our struggles futile against the unyielding grip of our captors. As we broke through the treeline, a massive bonfire came into view, its flames licking the night sky. Shadows danced around the clearing, cast by the flickering light. A woman stood at the forefront, her presence commanding.
Her eyes were milk white, devoid of pupils, and her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back. She was completely naked, her skin pale and marked with intricate symbols. Atop her head, she wore an elk skull, its antlers extending like eerie, skeletal fingers. She beat a drum emblazoned with more of the same cryptic symbols, each thud resonating deep within my chest.
Around the fire, about two dozen people stood, all drinking from crude, horned cups. Their faces were solemn, eyes fixed on the woman as she led them in a haunting chant. The atmosphere was thick with a mix of reverence and intoxication.
We were forced to our knees before the woman, who paused her drumming to look down at us. Her gaze was haunting, as if she could see into the very depths of our souls.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded, his voice trembling.
The woman ignored him, raising her arms to the sky. The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drum faster and more frenzied. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, the flames of the bonfire growing higher and more intense.
I glanced at Noah, fear mirrored in his eyes. The woman began to speak, her voice low and melodic, but filled with power, in a language I couldn't understand. Suddenly, she stopped, lowering her arms. The chanting ceased, and an silence fell over the clearing. She looked directly at me, her white eyes unblinking.
En tjuv i natten skördar vad han sår, akta dig för drömmar som du stjäl och får.
Hans skratt bevakar lundens gömda stig, där skuggor sveper över skogens liv.
För varje stulet andetag och svek, måste en tjuv möta sitt smärtsamma ödelek.
Tricksterns vilja, vår ande här, så i hans nåd, våra liv bär.
I was terrified and confused. She started again, softer, in a way I could understand.
A thief in the night shall reap what he sows, beware the price of stolen dreams.
His laughter guards our hidden groves, where shadows cloak the forest's seams.
For every stolen breath and lie, a thief must meet his painful end.
The tricksters will, our spirits tie, so in his grace, our lives suspend.
The crowd surged forward, grabbing Noah first. He screamed, his terror echoing through the trees as they pulled him towards a makeshift altar beside the bonfire. The woman chanted louder, her voice rising in a hypnotic rhythm as they began their gruesome work.
They stripped him of his shirt and bound his arms to a wooden frame. I tried to move, to help him, but the grip on my shoulders tightened, pinning me to the ground.
The woman approached Noah, holding a knife with a blade that gleamed in the firelight. She started to slice into his back, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Noah's screams pierced the night as she methodically carved the shape of wings into his flesh.
Blood poured from the wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. The crowd's chant grew louder, almost drowning out his cries. I watched in horror as the woman reached into the incisions, breaking the ribs and pulling them outward, creating a parody of wings.
Noah's agony was unbearable to witness. His screams turned to whimpers, his body convulsing in pain. The woman didn't stop until the work was complete, his lungs exposed and hanging grotesquely from his back.
They lifted Noah's broken body and placed him over the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, making me gag. His life ebbed away as the flames consumed him, the once vibrant light in his eyes fading to nothing.
The woman turned to me, her expression devoid of mercy. "You will meet the same fate," she said, "He demands it."
The smell of burning flesh and the sight of his broken body over the fire was seared into my mind. Despair settled over me as I closed my eyes.
A deafening blast shattered the night. My eyes flew open to see the shaman stumbling backward, a gaping wound in her chest. She collapsed to the ground, her white eyes staring lifelessly into the void.
The villagers turned in shock as another shot rang out, this time hitting one of the men holding me. I twisted free from their grasp and saw the park ranger standing at the edge of the clearing, a pump-action shotgun in his hands. He fired again, the sound echoing through the forest, before one of them tackled him to the ground.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Get the hell out of here!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted into the darkness, the chaos of the clearing fading behind me. Branches whipped at my face, and the snow underfoot made every step a struggle. I could hear the sounds of fighting and gunshots, but I forced myself to keep moving.
The cold air burned in my lungs, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I didn't stop until I reached the station, my legs threatening to give out from under me. I burst through the door and slammed it behind me.
Inside, Carl lay where we had left him, his face pale and twisted in pain. I stumbled to the radio, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the controls.
"Mayday, mayday!" I yelled into the microphone. "This is an emergency! We need help! Please, someone, come quickly!"
Static filled the room, punctuated by my ragged breaths. I repeated the call, my voice growing more frantic with each passing second. Finally, a voice crackled through the speaker. "This is Ranger Station Bravo. What's your location? Over."
I could barely form the words. "Olympic National Park! The ranger station near mount Christie! We're under attack! Please, send help!"
"Copy that. Help is on the way. Stay put and stay safe. Over."
I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. Carl moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "What… What happened? Where's Noah?”
Tears streamed down my face and I found myself choked up. “He’s gone, man. Help is coming.”
The minutes stretched into an eternity as we waited. The wind howled around the station, and every creak and groan of the structure set my nerves on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, that the forest itself was closing in on us.
The radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Helicopter en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Prepare for extraction."
I glanced at Carl, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hang on. We're getting out of here."
As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but think about the ranger. He had saved my life, but he hadn't made it back. My mind conjured up images of what might have happened to him, the cultists overwhelming him in the darkness. A sense of guilt gnawed at me, knowing he had sacrificed himself for us.
The sound of rotors cut through the night, growing louder as the helicopter approached. I ran to the window and saw its searchlight piercing the treetops, scanning for the station.
I helped Carl to his feet, supporting his weight as we made our way to the hatch. The helicopter hovered above, lowering a rescue basket. The wind from the rotors whipped the snow into a frenzy, but I didn't care. Salvation was finally here.
We secured Carl in the basket first, and I watched as he was hoisted up, disappearing into the safety of the helicopter. My turn was next. I realized that I was now alone and exposed. Fear coursing through me as I scanned around the edge of the forest, expecting to be grabbed and taken seconds before my rescue. But the moment never came. As I gripped the rope, I took one last look at the forest below. The flames of the bonfire still flickered in the distance.
I was lifted into the air, the ground falling away beneath me. The helicopter's crew pulled me inside, and I collapsed onto the floor still holding onto my pack, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. The doors closed, and the helicopter banked away, leaving the horrors of the park behind.
Weeks had passed since the harrowing events, but the memories clung to me like the bitter cold. I had returned to civilization, seeking solace in the familiar chaos of the city. I found a wealthy collector through a network of contacts. The artifacts fetched a price tenfold the cost of gear. The money was substantial, but as I held the cash, it felt like a hollow victory.
Noah's absence weighed heavily on me. His disappearance was chalked up as a missing persons case, and despite my best efforts to explain what had happened, no one believed me. The authorities conducted a search of the area, but they found no trace of the cult, the artifacts, or the clearing. It was as if the forest had swallowed up all the evidence.
I returned to the site where we had parked the truck. The dirt bikes were gone, stolen by opportunistic thieves, but the truck remained. I drove back in silence, the road winding through the dense forest. For a moment, I thought I saw the girl watching me from atop a ridge until I realized it was just paranoia. I stepped on the gas a little harder.
Back home, I checked the Tomb Raiders forum again. The post that had led us into the forest was gone, deleted without a trace. I messaged the mods, but apparently, they don’t keep records to maintain confidentiality. I wrote about our experience, detailing every terrifying moment, but the responses were skeptical at best. Most dismissed it as a work of fiction or a desperate cry for attention.
Time passed, and I tried to return to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the wilderness called to me stronger than ever. It was my sanctuary, the only place where I could find peace amidst the turmoil. I spent more and more time outdoors than ever before, but now it always felt like I was just running from something.
Determined to prove what had happened, I returned to the forest with a camera and recording equipment. This time, I documented every step, capturing footage of the trees, the snow, and the eerie silence that hung in the air. I retraced our path, hoping to find the clearing again. But each night, as I reviewed the footage, something strange would happen. The files would be corrupted or entire segments missing.
I pressed on. I found the site where Noah had fallen, the ground still bearing faint traces of what had happened. I set up the camera and began to speak, recounting the events in detail. As I spoke, a cold wind swept through the clearing, and the camera's screen flickered. I finished my account and turned to check the recording, only to find the file corrupted once again, the footage replaced by static and a faint, mocking laughter.
I returned home, defeated and exhausted. My attempts to share what I had experienced were met with disbelief and ridicule. The files I managed to save were corrupted beyond recognition. It was as if the forest itself was conspiring against me.
Almost exactly one year later, as I browsed the forums, a new post caught my eye. It was cryptic, eerily similar to the one that had led us into the nightmare. It spoke of another trove of artifacts, hidden deep within the wilderness, waiting to be claimed.
The post was signed with a new name: Skygge. Different handle, same style. Another trap. They had taken so much from me, left scars that would never heal. I opened my drawer, my fingers brushing over the cold metal of my weapons. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This time, I'll be ready.
The forest’s secrets won't remain hidden forever.

I'm just fucking tired at this point. I'm tired of being forced to be happy for everyone else and everyone else's accomplishments shoved down my throat. I'm always the fucking background character forced to cheer everyone on and I'm sick of it. How the fuck am I supposed to be happy for everyone else when nothing is going my way. I'm fucking sick of being told "relationships aren't all that" "the grass isn't always greener" "relationships are hard it's easier to be alone" by ungrateful ass bitches who have boyfriends who treat them like queens and don't fucking appreciate them, some of them even starting shit just to start shit. If I was in a relationship and my boyfriend told people our relationship was "work" and "not all that" I would be fucking offended. That shit is so ungrateful and disrespectful idc. AITA, Relationship advice, all the subs a lot of it is ungrateful gfs who complain for the sake of complaining and instigate shit and the users simp and take their side simply because they're women and all men bad. Of course a lot of men are bad and in the wrong, but sometimes in those posts the women instigate. I'm sick of being told to "just love myself" and "focus on what I can control". Everyone around me is in a relationship and I'm sick of it. I can't go 5 minutes at work without hearing "I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF, I WANNA BRAG ABOUT IT" ughhh no shade I love me some Doja, but listening to her music is making me so depressed. Almost all of it is about sex and relationships so I can't relate and it reminds me of what life won't let me have. Same thing with Ariana Grande, Taylor Swift, etc. I can't watch shows like Euphoria, Never Have I Ever, Haertbreak High, etc. shows about teens having sex and losing their virginity in high school because it reminds me of what I never had. It's a completely different world to me. A parallel universe.
I fucking hate my life. There's no way for me to be positive while everything in my life is going negative. I have a roof over my head and water, but I still don't have a boyfriend. Honestly, life is overrated and boring. Sometimes I just wanna d¡e. If you're not pretty, have no friends, single, life sucks. I need another drink, and another joint.

Preface: This is for Vedic, Sidereal Astrology.
This took a super long time to finish, but I've finally reached a point where I think I'm done trying to improve it. This part will focus more on how Purva Bhadrapada manifests for individuals.
Nature
Purva Bhadrapada reminds me a lot of Kali Yuga. In Hindu cosmology, Kali is the final of the four ages that the world goes through as part of a continuous cycle of creation, maintenance, and dissolution. It is the final stage before the onset of a new cycle, promising the destruction of the old order and the eventual merging of all into a unified whole. It signifies a time of dual balance before dissolution of individual identities and the reunification of all existence with the divine source. This can be viewed as being similar to the process of individual death, but it is on a universal scale. Kali Yuga is considered the age of darkness and moral decline, where spiritual values deteriorate and materialism prevails. According to Hindu scriptures, Kali Yuga is characterized by widespread social, political, and moral corruption, as well as a decline in virtue and Dharma (righteousness). It is believed that, during this age, human beings face numerous challenges and spiritual tests, and the pursuit of higher consciousness becomes increasingly more difficult compared to the previous Yugas. Just as Kali Yuga tests individuals with challenges to their spiritual resolve amidst the prevailing degeneration of values, Purva Bhadrapada is a cosmic stage where one's truest nature is tested through the weakening separation of the spiritual and the material. Here, individuals are made to confront their deepest fears and desires, burdened with the challenge of facing their true nature and purifying their souls. The emphasis of this nakshatra lies in releasing attachments amidst the seduction of outer freedom and power, mirroring the spiritual trials inherent to Kali Yuga. Yet, despite challenges of degeneration, there exists a unique opportunity during the stages of both Kali and Purva Bhadrapada. Kali is believed to be the best time for spiritual progress and true liberation because individuals can attain spiritual growth more rapidly due to the intensity of the challenges they face during this period, and the same is true of Purva Bhadrapada nakshatra. Both Kali and Purva Bhadrapada emphasize the importance of transcending mundane concerns and dedicatedly seeking spiritual truth amidst the backdrop of pervading ignorance.
The primary nature of Purva Bhadrapada is that of penance and disequilibrium. Purva Bhadrapada is the stage of evolution where individuals are made to undergo intense internal transformation and dissolution, shedding layers of their being in preparation for spiritual renewal and divine return. This process of metamorphosis can be seen as a type of penance, whether embraced willingly or thrust upon them. It offers eventual rewards as they journey towards enlightenment. As the primary nature of Purva Bhadrapada revolves around penance and transformation, individuals heavily influenced by this Nakshatra are oriented towards personal introspection and societal purification, viewing their lives as both a personal quest for growth and an opportunity to contribute to something greater. Individually, they seek to cleanse themselves of past transgressions and strive for spiritual redemption, and they feel personally responsible for their impact on others. At a broader societal level, they are driven by a strong sense of justice and a duty to rectify societal wrongs of the past and present in order to contribute to the collective upliftment and purification of their community. As such, they often subject themselves and others to extreme physical, mental, and spiritual challenges. They are presented with a kind of spiritual trial of sacrifice: either they can willingly embrace self-denial and endure while remaining detached, or they can create so much desire and fear that it causes them to lose the direction of their souls in the process. While the primary manifestation of Purva Bhadrapada energy is inwardly focused on cultivating self-discipline and perfection, oftentimes to an unhealthy degree, sometimes the focus can instead shift outward. This is where Purva Bhadrapada gains a lot of its infamy; Purva Bhadrapada is revered as one of the most "difficult" and "intense" nakshatras among Vedic astrologers. It is an asterism that gets approached with trepidation due to its somber imagery and associations with themes of violence, debauchery, and malevolence. The negative traits linked to Purva Bhadrapada, such as paranoia, pessimism, and hedonism, contribute to its daunting reputation. And for the most part, the fear of this nakshatra is justified. Not only are these individuals capable of doling out punishment themselves through various means like violence, manipulation, curses, etc., but they can also inadvertently bring out the self-destructive or uncontrolled nature of others. They are the types to cause deep introspection and confrontation with one's own shortcomings and fears, often acting as catalysts for irreversible transformation of character.
In terms of Purva Bhadrapada's inherently unbalanced nature, the trajectory is quite clear. These natives are not the type to do anything in moderation and often have an unstable demeanor and sense of self. They will always be pulled towards the polar extremes of anything, but they can flip on their values rapidly following any transformative event. They may occupy the deepest levels of material saturation, completely lost in chasing fame, drugs, sex, and uncontained immoral activities. Yet, paradoxically, they can also find themselves drawn to the heights of spiritual austerity, sometimes even at the same time they are trying to maximize their material standing. This innate propensity for extremes and contradiction manifests in every aspect of their lives, from their relationships, to their goals, to their beliefs, and to their actions. They are esteemed for their amiable disposition, characterized by warmth, thoughtfulness, and a selfless inclination to assist others without seeking acknowledgment. Yet, concurrently, they are often perceived as self-serving, prone to bouts of ill temper, and housing a proclivity towards ego-centricity. Despite appearing outwardly normal a lot of the time, they can be very eccentric. They are the types to lead clandestine lives, harboring secrets and maintaining hidden facets of their personalities and activities, even to those closest to them. This can make them seem nefarious and untrustworthy. Sometimes this is the case, but despite having a reputation for deceit, many of them are known to be sincere and honorable. Yet, underlying however they are being perceived is a deeper struggle to fully identify with anything. This challenge leads to inner conflicts and uncertainties, as they grapple with their sense of self and their place in the world. They are up and down, left and right, constantly in a state of internal conflict that leaves them questioning who they really are. They can feel like they don't know themselves while still being hyper-individualistic and defensive over whatever their current sense of identity is, even though it is likely to change. These contradictions reveal the complexity of their psyche, where outer appearances often mask inner conflicts and contradictory emotions and experiences. Purva Bhadrapada natives navigate the space where boundaries are starting to blur, reflecting the burgeoning singularity of existence in their minds. Due to this, sometimes they can seem like walking contradictions, embodying multiple clashing characteristics at once. For example, while they may harbor a sense of superiority over others, they can also experience deep-seated insecurity and jealousy. They can like to be critical, but cannot handle criticism. Additionally, they might demonstrate a strong desire for independence and self-reliance, yet simultaneously crave validation and approval from those around them. These conflicting traits contribute to their complex and enigmatic nature, making them intriguing yet challenging individuals to understand to others and themselves.
Purva Bhadrapada's inclination towards extremes extends to their pursuit of goals, as they approach certain tasks with unwavering ambition and dedication. They set high standards and are willing to push themselves to extreme limits to get what they want. This relentless drive for perfection and attainment can sometimes lead them to engage in behaviors that are harmful to the well-being of themselves or others, as they struggle to find balance and moderation. At this point, you may be asking, "how is that penance if they are only striving to selfishly get what they want?" Well, the painful truth about this is that they do not really want these things. They are told by others ignorant to their situation that they will be happy when they achieve some kind of abstruse goal set forth for them by society, and they are sent on a goose-chase of material ambition to achieve happiness, but this inevitably only leads to further dissatisfaction. They are met with pain, humiliation, and harsh transformation, but they keep pushing towards their aspiration of material fulfillment. It is only when they get that job, marry that partner, become famous, etc. that they realize it does not bring them happiness or fill them with the sense of purpose they crave. In fact, this realization often leads to intense anger as they confront the worthlessness of what they spent all their time chasing. The journey through Purva Bhadrapada is undeniably arduous, but that is to be expected with such a potent force. They are called to transcend their attachments, lest they be forcefully ripped away. They begin to grapple with an inescapable emptiness they feel when interacting with the world, and this can often lead them to deep feelings of nihilism. Purva Bhadrapada natives are predisposed to being unhappy, and this is not a shallow kind of unhappiness that fades based on external circumstances. Rather, it is a deeply existential depression– a feeling of confused worthlessness and dissatisfaction they often battle with for the duration of their lives. Their experiences and attachments become increasingly burdensome as they grow more aware of the fleeting nature of life. These natives will openly acknowledge the impermanence of worldly intentions, and while this can be both good or bad, it ultimately makes their minds unpredictable and unstable. With the recognition that nothing lasts forever, a new philosophy can be used to justify any action according to moral relativism. If nothing matters in the grand scheme – where whatever you do will eventually fade into obscurity, wiped away with the start of a new cycle – then anything you do doesn’t really matter in the end. This gives these natives a sense of untouchability, a feeling to do whatever they please at their most uninhibited. And it is in this stage of recognizing one’s freedom to do whatever they want is that the test to discern their one’s nature begins. When there is total freedom, the only real concern becomes about what one chooses to do with their freedom. After all, the only harm that can come from doing what you want is ultimately the result of wanting to do something harmful. Sadly, the reality is that most people are not strong enough to fully resist the temptation of evil and would fail this test. It is for this reason that this trial is exclusively administered to individuals who possess a high level of spiritual advancement found under Purva Bhadrapda. Regardless of the difficulties they face, those governed by Purva Bhadrapada have tremendous inner strength and personal resilience, which often manifests in worldly and spiritual achievement and prosperity in various facets of their lives.
Individuals born under the influence of the Purva Bhadrapada Nakshatra are inherently inclined towards detachment from external influences. This detachment often leads them down two distinct paths. Some choose to embrace a life unbound by societal norms, driven solely by their inner convictions. These individuals seek to experience life to the fullest, embracing both its joys and challenges. However, if they feel unfulfilled, they may turn to darker pursuits in search of excitement. Conversely, others utilize their detachment for spiritual advancement, renouncing materialism in favor of a disciplined quest for higher truths. In both cases, detachment becomes a defining trait, shaping their lives in divergent yet meaningful ways. Whether they become revolutionary leaders or appear lazy due to their selective motivation, their actions are stirred only by what truly invigorates their souls. Their inner character often changes with time. They can start out seeming quite innocent and fragile, and a lot of the time they will have something about them that invites torment, be it their big and eccentric personalities, their height, their weight, their looks, etc. This often leads people to perceive them as different and vulnerable. Unfortunately, this vulnerability often attracts individuals who seek to exploit, victimize, or corrupt them. There's a noticeable pattern of others attempting to take advantage of their perceived weakness, whether it be through just trying to make them feel bad, manipulating them, coercing them to do things they do not want to, or forcing them to be alone by treating them as outcasts. This predatory behavior can leave these individuals feeling isolated, betrayed, and miserable, further fueling their inner turmoil and sense of disillusionment with the world around them. However, this also serves to strengthen them. During the course of their lives, they will experience a series of external transformations that will change who they are. While their soft and innocent demeanor may still be present in some ways, there will be a new darker side to their nature. The inner transformations that Purva Bhadrapada natives undergo change them into stronger, more hardened versions of themselves. This alteration can manifest in tendencies towards violence, aggression, deceit, manipulation, etc., yet at the same time, it also equips them with the strength and capability to protect others when needed. As they navigate the complexities of life, they become formidable forces, possessing the resilience and detachment to confront challenges head-on along with the capacity to wield their strength for both good and evil.
Purva Bhadrapada natives exhibit a curious mix of flippancy and seriousness, often displaying a casual attitude towards many topics yet simultaneously exuding an air of solemnity in regards to topics concerning things like philosophical and existential inquiries. They possess a keen intellect characterized by innovation and depth of gnosis, which lends to their excellence in fields like science and research. Additionally, they are known to have an insatiable thirst for knowledge and information gathering brought about by a powerful yearning for deeper truth. While they may have a religious inclination, their focus lies more on unraveling the essence of spirituality rather than adhering rigidly to dogma. As a result of their approach to religion, they can sometimes be critical of conventional religious practices, which rely heavily on dogmatic rules and rituals. These natives are generally liberal and disdain hypocrisy as well as superficiality, valuing authenticity and depth in both thought and action, regardless of how much it clashes with anything else. Despite their show of outward confidence, they often wrestle with inner self-doubt and a crippling fear of failure, which leaves little room for optimism when they are faced with setbacks. While they typically prefer to be alone, they may inadvertently rely on others when seeking to escape the monotony of their everyday lives. This can make them seem unreliable or inconsistent when it comes to their relationships. They are driven by an innate desire to transcend mediocrity and to be perceived as exceptional. This drive for superior distinction stems from underlying feelings of insecurity and a fear of judgment, compelling them to constantly push the boundaries and strive for success through originality in all aspects of their lives. In their personal relationships, Purva Bhadrapada natives may struggle to balance their need for independence with their desire for connection. Generally, in their interactions with others, Purva Bhadrapada natives are intense yet detached. Despite their desire for authenticity and closeness in relationships, they may struggle to express their openly, fearing rejection or misunderstanding. This internal conflict between their need for connection and their fear of vulnerability can create barriers to intimacy, causing them to retreat through self-imposed isolation. Additionally, their critical nature and high standards can sometimes alienate others, as they can come across as overly judgmental or demanding of their fitness, partners, colleagues, etc. They value depth and sincerity in relationships, but sometimes it can be too much to where they end up pushing others away with their intensity. Despite these challenges, they are still often very empathetic and understanding, and they can offer support to people when needed.
Before I get into the padas, I want to give some examples. I do not want to go into much detail or take up too much time with this, but given the very complicated nature of this nakshatra, I feel that it is necessary to provide media representations for people to look into if they are interested in knowing more about how it manifests: Martin Scorsese PB Moon and Andrew Garfield PB ASC (Silence Official Trailer (2016) - Paramount Pictures), Billie Eilish PB ASC (Billie Eilish - bury a friend (Official Music Video)), Jack Black PB Moon (School of Rock (2003) Trailer #1 Movieclips Classic Trailers), Dylan O'brien PB Moon (AMERICAN ASSASSIN - Official Trailer - HD (Dylan O'Brien, Michael Keaton), Logan-Marshall Green (Upgrade Trailer #1 (2018) Movieclips Trailers), Paul Walker PB Moon (Hours TRAILER (2013) - Paul Walker Movie HD), Bill Skarsgard PB Moon (The Crow - Official Trailer (2024) Bill Skarsgård, FKA twigs, Danny Huston), Olivia Wilde PB Sun (A VIGILANTE Official HD International Trailer Starring Olivia Wilde) & (The Lazarus Effect Official Trailer #1 (2015) - Olivia Wilde, Mark Duplass Movie HD), John Stamos PB ASC (John Stamos Stars in "Secrets of Eden" Lifetime), Hozier PB Sun (the lyrics and imagery of this video are extremely Purva Bhadrapada) Hozier - Take Me To Church), Kaya Scoledario PB Sun (Spinning Out Official Trailer Netflix), Ryan Gosling PB ASC (THE FALL GUY Official Trailer 2 (Universal Studios) - HD), Camila Mendes PB Moon (Do Revenge Official Trailer Netflix), Bryan Cranston PB Sun (Breaking Bad Trailer), Sabrina Carpenter PB Moon and Milo Manheim PB Sun (Sabrina Carpenter - Feather (Official Video) Alexandra Daddario PB Sun (Anne Rice's Mayfair Witches Trailer: Starring Alexandra Daddario AMC+), Jacob Elordi PB Moon (2 HEARTS Official Trailer (2020) Jacob Elordi, Tiera Skovbye), Tom Blyth PB Moon (Billy The Kid (EPIX 2022 Series) Official Trailer), Daniel Gillies PB Sun (COMING HOME IN THE DARK Trailer (2021) Daniel Gillies Suspense Thriller Movie), Matthew Gray Gubler PB Sun (KING KNIGHT Trailer (2022) Angela Sarafyan, Matthew Gray Gubler), Jon Hamm (Corner Office (2023) Official Trailer - Jon Hamm, Danny Pudi, Sarah Gadon), Rachel Weisz PB Sun + Moon and Sam Claflin PB Moon (MY COUSIN RACHEL Official Trailer FOX Searchlight), Chris Pine PB Moon (Jack Reacher Movie Trailer), Madison Beer PB Sun (Madison Beer - Make You Mine (Official Music Video), Sharon Stone PB Sun (Basic Instinct - Trailer (1080p)), and Michael Jackson PB Moon (Michael Jackson - Thriller (Official 4K Video).
Padas
(mostly for Moon) They all tend to be skinny to middle weight until they get older, where they either become more muscular or plump/curvy.
1st – The first pada of Purva Bhadrapada, falling in the Aries Navamsa, signifies a stage of primal energy and raw ambition. With Mars as their guiding force, they exhibit a relentless drive to achieve their goals, refusing to be deterred by obstacles or setbacks. However, being the initial pada of the nakshatra just leaving the stage of Shatabhisha, this quarter is the least spiritually developed. While they may possess great worldly ambition and the capacity for success, they may also be prone to ego-driven actions and an overly narrow focus on material pursuits. They can get into occultism or spirituality, but it is usually an attempt to further themselves in the material realm. Natives born under this pada possess a combative nature, always ready to engage in confrontations to defend their beliefs or assert their dominance. They tend to be more mentally aggressive than physically, but nonetheless their volatile temperament can lead to physical disputes as well when they are provoked enough. They know they can be very damaging when they lose control, so they will do everything in their power to prevent escalation. Ironically, this can make them seem passive. They typically exhibit anxious tendencies while attempting to conceal or downplay their feelings of worry. Natives of this pada are extremely passionate, but they have a tendency to constantly compare themselves to others, which ultimately can lead them to disregard their efforts to focus on surpassing someone else's. This propensity of theirs for aggression, envy, and competitiveness can strain relationships and hinder their personal growth, as they become consumed by their own desires for dominance and validation. They are usually medium tall with a wide forehead and low eyebrows.
2nd – The second pada of Purva Bhadrapada, ruled by Venus in the Taurus Navamsa, embodies a stage of sensual indulgence and creative expression. Individuals born under this pada are drawn to the occult and mysteries of the unseen, often delving into practices such as astrology and black magic. There is a bit of detachment from the mysticism of it at this stage though. They may prefer to look at it through a scientific or philosophical perspective as opposed to one that embraces faith in the divine. While their interest in these esoteric realms may lead to proficiency in such arts, it also heightens their propensity to lose track of their life's direction, becoming absorbed in the pursuit of hidden knowledge and power. Natives of this pada are characterized by their attractive physique, with beautiful broad teeth and strikingly captivating eyes that draw others to them. They possess an innate charm that makes them highly appealing to the opposite sex, and they are not hesitant to indulge in their darker desires and fantasies. Their creativity knows no bounds, as they constantly innovate and explore new avenues of expression. However, despite their magnetic allure and creative flair, individuals of this pada are prone to indulgence and excess, particularly when it comes to satisfying their sensual appetites. Their pursuit of pleasure and gratification can sometimes lead them astray, causing them to lose sight of their responsibilities and priorities. This stage of Purva Bhadrapada is more spiritually evolved than the prior, but it is still in the accumulation phase of Aquarius and the 11th house. Despite their outward charm, they may struggle to find stability and balance in their lives. They are prone to accidents.
3rd – The third pada of Purva Bhadrapada falls in the Gemini Navamsa and is ruled by Mercury. Natives born under this pada embody the mental side of Purva Bhadrapada, which is very focused on cultivating critical reasoning and gathering information, emphasizing communication, learning, and adaptability. Individuals born under this pada are intellectually inclined, constantly seeking to expand their knowledge and understanding of the world around them. They are playful and curious by nature, approaching life with a sense of wonder and exploration. Their energy is expressed through communication and expression, as they excel in articulating their thoughts and ideas. They have a natural gift for language and may find success in fields such as writing, teaching, or public speaking. Despite their playful demeanor, they are still very serious about their pursuits, driven by a deep-seated desire for personal growth and self-improvement. Natives of this pada tend to be peaceful and honorable, seeking harmony and balance in their interactions with others. However, their mercurial nature can sometimes manifest as manipulation or deceit, particularly when they perceive it necessary to achieve their goals. Nonetheless, they are skilled at navigating social situations and may possess a knack for making money through their cleverness and resourcefulness. In terms of appearance, individuals of this pada may have gaunt lower cheeks, high cheekbones, a narrow and defined jawline, and a medium stature. These physical characteristics complement their sharp wit and agile minds, making them engaging in social settings.
4th – The fourth pada of Purva Bhadrapada is ruled by the Moon in Cancer Navamsa. This is the most spiritually advanced of all the padas and tends to be among the most intense. At this stage, individuals born under this pada have either undergone profound inner transformation, shedding their attachment to worldly desires and material gains for the sake of aligning with the cosmic order, or they have fallen for the empty temptations of material life, leading them to a deeper state of moral decay. This pada in the sequence of this nakshatra symbolizes the finalization of death, and just like when we die, the impact of our lives can no longer be altered. You are called to surrender all you have acquired to the purifying flames of the spiritual fire, relinquishing personal benefit for the greater good, and if you fail, your soul will be lost to another cycle of rebirth. This represents the height of the nakshatra's power to manifest, it can come to be either an uplifting force for individuals and humanity as a whole, or as a potentially dangerous influence. Those born under this pada are deeply engaged in their own spiritual pursuits, usually guided by a sense of purpose and higher calling. They possess an innate magnetism and power that exerts influence over others and the world around them. Despite the intensity of their spiritual journey, individuals of this pada tend to enjoy good longevity and robust health, thanks to their deep connection with the cosmic energies. They are often perceived charismatic individuals, drawing others to them with their presence. However, their innate power comes with a responsibility to wield it wisely, as they hold the potential to bring about significant positive change or destruction, depending on how they choose to channel it.
Caste
Purva Bhadrapada belongs to the Brahmin or priestly/scholarly caste. This classification is based on the inherent qualities and tendencies of individuals born under this nakshatra, rather than their family lineage, as seen in contemporary caste systems. In Vedic astrology and Hindu tradition, each nakshatra is associated with as caste, thereby linking them to specific attributes, occupations, and societal roles. Brahmin is positioned as the highest caste and is given the most power and responsibility, both socially and spiritually. In classical texts, the Brahmin caste is exalted for its dedication to scholarship, spirituality, and moral rectitude. Brahmins are depicted as the keepers of sacred knowledge, entrusted with the preservation and dissemination of ancient scriptures and teachings. They are revered for their intellectual prowess, philosophical insights, and commitment to upholding the highest ethical standards. Brahmins are expected to lead lives of austerity, simplicity, and self-discipline, setting examples of virtue and righteousness for society. Additionally, they play important roles in leading religious rituals, ceremonies, and spiritual practices, acting as intermediaries between individuals and the divine. Their contributions also extend beyond religious and intellectual realms though, as they also provide guidance, counseling, and healing to individuals and communities. Overall, Brahmins are portrayed as paragons of virtue, wisdom, and enlightenment, embodying the highest ideals of human excellence and divine knowledge as described in classical texts, acting as oases of wisdom by guiding society not only in matters of spirituality but also in areas such as literature, philosophy, and science. Their primary occupations are mostly associated with administration of all sectors of society, teaching, healing, and providing spiritual guidance. Its intersection with Aquarius Rashi on the ecliptic plane may also relate it to Kshatriya and Shudra.
Gunas
The nakshatras each represent the different gunas at different levels of functioning. For this asterism, it might be confusing to find out that, despite all of its negative connotations, it is associated primarily with Sattva or purity/balance. This mainly stems from this Nakshatra's capacity for penance, spiritualism, and generosity. Overall, Purva Bhadrapada is associated with two levels of Sattva and one of Rajas. Sattva prevails at the physical and mental levels, while Rajas predominates at the spiritual level. At the physical level, individuals born under Purva Bhadrapada exhibit qualities of purity, harmony, and balance. They are often composed, grounded, and possess a sense of stability in their physical endeavors. Mentally, they tend to exhibit clarity, wisdom, and a penchant for introspection when they are only focused on engaging their rational mind. This can get muddy when they try to incorporate less tangible aspects into their thinking though. At the spiritual level, the influence of Rajas emerges, driving them towards spiritual growth and evolution but also threatening them with the struggle of inner turmoil. With Rajas at the most personal level of the spirit, this can cause a onstant seeking pf external validation and gratification, which leads to things such as constantly chasing after fleeting desires and pleasures from their lack of contentment. Additionally, the intense drive associated with Rajas may result in overexertion, burnout, and a disregard for self-care. It can lead to an inflated ego, arrogance, and a tendency towards manipulative or self-serving behavior. Therefore, while Rajas can propel individuals towards spiritual evolution, it also poses challenges that need to be navigated with mindfulness and self-awareness. Together with the heavy influence of Sattva, Rajas in this nakshatra creates a spiritual restlessness that works to propel these natives to actively engage in spiritual practices, seeking to transcend worldly limitations and attain spiritual liberation. It comes with risk, but this is a necessary trial.
Gana
Purva Bhadrapada Nakshatra falls under the category of Manushya Gana, or "human/mixed species." This designation speaks to the inherent qualities and tendencies of individuals born under this nakshatra, aligning them with human characteristics and behaviors. People belonging to the Manushya Gana Nakshatras, including Purva Bhadrapada, place value on their self-worth and esteem. They often enjoy good physical attributes and are blessed with fortune, leading comfortable lives. With warm and friendly personalities, they exhibit care and affection towards their family, friends, and loved ones, readily offering assistance to those in need. However, they also prioritize their own interests and benefits. They are known for their warm and caring nature, and while they may appear busy if approached, they are capable of balancing their personal and professional lives effectively. The path of those born under Manushya Gana nakshatras is undefined. They possess the potential to exhibit both positive and negative qualities, akin to the diverse nature of humanity itself. They have the potential to be even more evil than the Rakshas and even more good than the Devas. While some may lean towards acts of kindness and generosity, others may display tendencies that are less altruistic. This blend of qualities makes them a complex combination qualities you might see for the Deva and Rakshasa Ganas. Keep in mind that you should look at the dominant Gana in your chart to gain a better understanding of how this may apply to you.
Thank you for taking the time to read this if you did. I will have to continue this in a third part because I'm out of room on this post. Afterwards, I will be starting on Shravana Nakshatra soon, and then later on Anuradha.

As a "Wicked" fan, I was super excited when rumors of a movie adaptation began circulating.
Personally, I would have loved to see a professionally shot version of the stage show, maybe not with Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth since they’ve aged out of the roles. But it would have been perfect to see actresses who have brought these characters to life on Broadway.
When I learned Ariana Grande was cast as Glinda, my excitement waned, and I began to worry. It’s not that I doubt her singing—I'm sure with some work, she can nail the Broadway style since her version of "The wizard and I" in the 15th Wicked anniversary was good but left much to be desired in terms of performance compared to a lot of Elphabas. But her acting? That's what worries me. Fans often point out that she was a Broadway actress, but there's a significant difference between a former Broadway child actress and the quality and consistency an adult actor can deliver.
The trailer only made my worries worse. It seems she cannot act. I'm begging for Ariana to prove me wrong and her acting will be much better in the context of the full movie, even if she does seem to be mimicking Kristin Chenoweth's voice instead of creating her own take on Glinda, it would be more acceptable if her acting were convincing.
Then there’s the makeup, hair and eyebrows. She doesn’t disappear into the role at all, which just highlights how odd she looks in the promotional photos and the trailer footage. It’s almost laughable and cringeworthy. You can tell acting doesn’t come naturally to her anymore, especially after not having an acting career for so long. Her role in "Don't Look Up" wasn’t as bad as what I’m seeing here. And the way she talks about her approach to the role comes off as so pretentious without the results to back up the attitude, like she thinks she’s will be a super sophisticated actress if she talks of how much she tried to deconstruct herself to just have Glinda on the screen for us. I just don't see it.
I really hope I’m wrong because I love "Wicked" so much. I don’t want it to be a disappointment.
I would love to hear more from Wicked fans or just people who have enjoyed the musical before.

Reddit Account: u/spyraxes
Discord Tag: spyraxes
Name and House: Visenya Targaryen
Age: 54
Cultural Group: Valyrian
Appearance: Visenya is a woman covered head to toe in striking features. With silver-gold hair worn braided or bound, allowing herself easy motion and vision in combat, purple eyes that stare from a harsh face with deep cheekbones and stern expressions, the Bloody Queen is a dominant figure in courtly and martial situations. Some say she bathes in blood to keep her youth, others that her rigorous training and love for battle keeps her body fit. Whatever the case, Visenya is a unique and unsettling woman.
Trait: Strong
Skill(s): Dragonrider, Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster (e)
Talent(s): Training, Glaring, Thinking Deeply About Things
Negative Trait(s): too cool
Starting Title(s): Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Lady of Mooncrest, Mother of the True King, the Bloody Queen, Wielder of Dark Sister, Rider of Vhagar
Starting Location: Opening Event
Alternate Characters: jesus christ its day 1 dont make me alt please!
Name and House: Marsella Egen
Age: 24
Cultural Group: Valeman
Appearance: Marsella is as cold-faced as her Queenly mistress, though more prone to smiles creeping through. She is tall, broad-shouldered, with a powerful build shaped by years of training and journeying the realm. Her hair is red and cut short, her face scarred and her green eyes deep-set and surrounded by scars.
Trait: Hale
Skill(s): Two-Handed Weapons (e), Brute
Talent(s): Dancing, Drinking, Gambling
Negative Trait(s): n/a
Starting Title(s): Sworn Sword to Lae Targaryen, Heir to Mooncrest, Cavalier
Starting Location: Opening Event
—

Bio-Timeline

• 29 BC - Visenya Targaryen is born, the first child of Aerion Targaryen, Lord of Dragonstone, and his wife Valaena Velaryon.
• 27 BC - Only a few years later, the boy who would later become the Conqueror, Aegon Targaryen, is born. His betrothal to Visenya is arranged almost the moment he is swaddled.
• 25 BC - Rhaenys Targaryen, youngest of the trio, joins the family. She is the last Targaryen born before the Conquest.
• 21 BC - Visenya begins to train with Lord Quenton Qoherys, Master-at-Arms of Dragonstone, and shows exceptional skill at arms. Later on, Aegon and Rhaenys both join her in practising their swordplay. Visenya always seems to get an edge, despite their shared significant skill.
• 14 BC - Between training sessions, Visenya finds herself exploring quiet places on Dragonstone. It is during one of these outings that she comes across one of the island’s non-human occupants. Vhagar, one of the smaller dragons on the island, bonds quickly with her. It takes a few months of bonding, but Visenya quickly becomes close to the beast - and soon enough she becomes its one and only rider.
• 9 BC - As arranged many years before, Aegon and Visenya wed. It is a marriage of duty, but all know Aegon holds love for his younger sister over the elder. Visenya holds no resentment. She knows duty and love cannot always intermingle, but she will do hers.
• 7 BC - Rhaenys and Aegon marry two years later in a pivot from tradition. Visenya spends more time with Vhagar and less with her siblings in the wake of it, though her love for Aegon does not dull. She remains close with the pair even with her physical distance.
• 2 BC - After a while of planning and plotting, the three Targaryens fly forth to conquer Westeros. House Stokeworth fell to Vhagar’s flames, and Duskendale knelt to the Queen after the fall of their army in Aegon’s first test. With the lands that would later become the core of Targaryen dominion secured, Aegon was crowned King of All Westeros, a crown placed atop his head by his elder sister and his title proclaimed by his younger. As the Stormlands fall to Rhaenys, and Harrenhal to Aegon, Visenya finds herself tasked with the conquest of the Vale. After destroying the region’s fleet, though not without losing a large portion of the Targaryen navy itself, Visenya circles back to Blackwater Bay, landing in Crackclaw Point and accepting the oaths of fealty of the local lords in the wake of Harrenhal’s destruction. With the Claw pacified, Visenya flies to join her siblings once more. They take a smaller force to the Reach, to meet an army of the Gardeners and Lannisters in battle. Nearly through dragonfire alone, the armies of Reach and West crumble, House Gardener nearly becomes extinct, and House Lannister kneels to the new royal house. Visenya receives an injury in the battle, taking an arrow to the shoulder, but it does nothing to hamper her skill.
• 1 BC - In the wake of the Field of Fire, Visenya retreats to the Aegonfort to recover from her injury. It does not take long for her to return to action, though, joining her siblings at the Trident to await the arrival of a Northern host led by the King of Winter. Visenya has no qualms with burning every Northman who wishes to cross the river, but Torrhen’s surrender is a move she views as wise. With the northern border secure, Visenya deals with her only loose end once and for all. On dragonback, she travels to the Eyrie as the Queen Regent of the Vale amasses an army, her attempt to arrange a marriage between herself and Aegon a failure. Visenya’s arrival is met by the young King, who sits himself up on her lap to await Sharra Arryn’s arrival. When she turns up, Ronnel asks to fly on dragonback - and that is enough to make Sharra capitulate, handing over the crown of Mountain and Vale to the dragonrider. Visenya’s act of mercy endears her to the young king and his mother, who becomes a close companion of Visenya in later years.
• 1 AC - With the Conquest brought to an end, besides the Dornish and the Ironborn homeland, the royal family fly to Oldtown to witness the crowning of Aegon I Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. To gain the sympathies of the people, the Targaryens convert to the Faith of the Seven - though Visenya holds fast to her Valyrian beliefs behind closed doors, unwilling to abandon her heritage to please those who she conquered. With Aegon’s victory, King’s Landing’s construction becomes the focus of the realm. For a while, anyway. During this initial period of peace, one attempt is made on the life of the King, with Visenya putting down the assassins. Aegon believes his guards are more than sufficient usually, and she proves him wrong by opening up his cheek with the tip of Dark Sister before any of his men can respond. Not long after, Ser Corlys Velaryon is named Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and six knights are selected to join him in an act honouring the false gods of Westeros.
  • Far from the capital, in Mooncrest, a daughter is born to Lord Lyn Egen and his wife. She is named Marsella.
• 2 AC - Once again, the peace is fractured. House Sunderland resumes their rebellion against House Arryn and the Crown, and the Ironborn continue to war with Westeros as a whole. Whilst Aegon deals with the raiders to the west, the Queen flies north and puts down Queen Marla Sunderland and her rebels, turning the hold of House Sunderland and the entire line to ash, naming House Borrell as overlords of the Sisters, and bidding them swear fealty to House Stark of Winterfell in place of the young Lord Arryn. Before returning to King’s Landing, she takes a quick stop at the Eyrie to berate the Lady Regent for her negligent handling of the situation - though she leaves with a far more forgiving stance, and perhaps a touch of regret for her harsh decision.
• 3 - 7 AC - Visenya assumes a position in the royal court enforcing Aegon’s will, assisting the Kingsguard in protecting him from attacks, and providing an intimidating presence for those who would overstep their bounds. She maintains contact with the Arryns of the Vale, letters flying back and forth to keep her friendship with the Lady Regent alive. She gives and receives advice, whiles away time writing, and promises to visit.
• 7 AC - At a feast to celebrate the seventh anniversary of the Conquest, during one of Rhaenys’ visits to Dorne, the King is attacked. Goldcloaks perform the assassination attempt in great numbers, and the force of Visenya and the Kingsguard isn’t enough to stop them from getting to Aegon and wounding him. Despite their failure to protect him, the fight ends in royal favour as Ser Malwyn Blackwood takes some of the assailants captive and Visenya tends to the fallen king. He is unresponsive but alive, and Orys promises to take care of him whilst the prisoners are interrogated. Reluctantly, the Queen agrees. It does not take long for the truth to be revealed - that House Tully of Riverrun plotted the attack, in an attempt to kill the King. It seemed unlikely that they would fail, in the end, but Visenya refused to let them see their day of victory. Only she is told, and she acts immediately, leaving the city on the back of Vhagar and heading towards Riverrun with only one objective in mind. When she reaches the castle, there is little hesitation - fire envelops the people and the structures, turning all to ash. No Tully survives, in her reckoning, and she takes the signet ring of Lord Edmyn as proof of her victory and their failure. Naming the land Aegon’s Rest, she pens a writ bestowing it upon Baelor Belaerys, a man in her husband’s service and descendant of dragonlords of old, and names Lord Lannister the overlord of the territory. She returns to King’s Landing, but her visit does not last long - when Aegon’s death is confirmed, and the Master of Laws reveals the plans to split governance three ways, she leaves for the Vale almost immediately. She only stays around long enough to have her pregnancy confirmed - an heir to the throne.
• 7 - 10 AC - It doesn’t take long for Visenya to arrive at the Eyrie, welcomed in her grief by Sharra and her children. She is visibly pregnant, and her small retinue settles in well. Most of her time is spent with the Lady Regent and the children, and the birth of her first child - who she names Laenor - is no deterrent from that. In fact, it often seems that Visenya has more affection for her host’s children than her own. She becomes almost a second mother to the Lord of the Eyrie and his three siblings. Despite her closed-off nature, she finds a constant companion in Sharra Arryn, and becomes as close to friends as she can with many others present in the castle including Lord Lyn Egen, an advisor to the Lady Regent. She splits her time between training, flying, the children, and her own heir.
• 10 AC - Ronnel Arryn comes of age, and is wedded to Serena Stark. It is an arrangement made by Rhaenys, one that infuriates Visenya to no end initially. She becomes irate at Sharra, but quickly turns around and accepts it. Their relationship remains warm and close. However, nearing the end of the year, Sharra dies. Once more, Visenya retreats into herself, spending most of the days in the sky on Vhagar’s back alone. She is convinced to return to life by the Arryn children, and continues to raise them into adulthood. Without Sharra, it is a harder task, but one she confronts all the same.
• 13 AC - Despite their devotion to the Seven, gods Visenya only considered to be hers in name, the formation of the Cavaliers brings joy to the Queen in the Mountains. She places her support behind the order, continuing her return to public life within the Vale. She takes on the duty of training the daughter of her good friend Lord Egen, teaching young Marsella how to fight. Despite their difference in weaponry - Visenya’s preference for smaller longswords versus Marsella’s for large hefty greatswords - the two get along fiercely well.
• 15 AC - When news of the tragedy in the Kingswood reaches the Eyrie, Visenya sends her condolences to the regent for the deaths under his watch. There is something cold about the way it is written.
• 16 AC - News of Dorne’s integration into the Seven Kingdoms pleases her no more than the Kingswood Catastrophe, especially when the stipulation upon which it happened is made known to her. Unwilling to dishonour the deal, Visenya ensures that she has it in writing that Laenor will one day marry the Princess of Dorne’s daughter, but she is irate over Rhaenys’ move - but also a little proud of her younger sister for outmanoeuvring her.
• 19 AC - After a long period of courting and an even longer period of talking, a wedding is held at Mooncrest between Visenya Targaryen and Lord Lyn Egen. There is jubilation, a tournament, a grand feast, and perhaps the first real smile on the lips of Visenya since the death of Sharra Arryn. It is proof that there is still a drop of the old Visenya beneath the cold, disconnected surface, that very few see. It is not the end of ceremony for the Egens in that year, as Marsella is inducted into the Cavaliers. She is sworn to protect Laenor Targaryen, too, her sibling and friend.
• 20 AC - Early in the year, after a prolonged illness, Lyn’s eldest daughter Carolei passes. There is sorrow in Mooncrest, but it is solved in part by good news. Just a year and a bit after their wedding, Visenya and Lyn’s first and only child is born, a young girl named Maegelle. She is Lyn’s third daughter, second living, and only one present in Mooncrest - Marsella left a note in the wake of her sister’s death that she was taking some time for herself in Essos and would be back when she viewed it right. Some wonder if she is participating in Orys’ plans to create closer relations with Essos, but the Egens know that is unlikely - Marsella cares little for politics and less for the enemies of her father’s wife.
• 20 - 25 AC - Visenya and Lyn remain quiet at Mooncrest and the Eyrie, engaging in politics and plotting and regular court life (moreso for the latter than the former), as Laenor becomes more and more shaped into the ruler they’re meant to become. Meanwhile, across the Narrow Sea, Marsella becomes more grizzled a warrior, serving with the Lost Legion before their arrival in Westeros, meeting the Blue Sails and their leader Helya Harlaw and joining them briefly, and taking on mercenary work across the Free Cities and the Disputed Lands for anyone who would pay for a Westerosi warrior. Her contact with Mooncrest is limited, bearing only a few words attached to packages for Laenor alone.
• 25 AC - As Laenor comes of age, and the realm at large is summoned to King’s Landing to celebrate the namedays of her and Rhaenys’ children, Visenya prepares for the worst - her sister will not move aside easily, and she knows well enough that Rhaenys might have to be forced. But there is no doubt in her mind that she is ready for it - she just prays the realm is to join her. From the East, Marsella returns, ready to see her kin and friends for the first time in half a decade. She is not the same woman she once was.

—

Family Tree

House Egen
House Targaryen
—

Supporting Characters

Lord Lyn Egen - b. 24 BC - Archetype: General - Wise and a touch ferocious, Lyn is a skilled commander and a protective father, ready to do whatever he can to protect his daughters and Visenya’s own child. Skilled enough with a sword but more comfortable ahorse or behind a commander’s desk, the man who served as Keeper of the Gates of the Moon during the Conquest and was ready to cut his teeth against dragonfire now acts as the most loyal and proud follower of the very Queen who conquered his lands, his own wife.
Lorra Egen - b. 6 AC - Archetype: Builder - Despite the martial inclination of much of House Egen, Laenor is not the only occupant of Mooncrest who has grasped numbers well. Lorra Egen is a skilled mathematician in her own right, left in charge of the finances of the castle when her distant step-kin isn’t there to run them, and often assisting them in doing so. She is prim and proper and prone to judgement, but she is kind at heart. No niece of Lyn Egen would survive not being so, in truth.

The Cenacle 124 April 2024 29^th Anniversary Issue
https://scriptorpress.com/cenacle/124
[Size = 13.6 MB]
Hello everyone,
Here comes the just-released Cenacle 124 April 2024. Returning to the desired quarterly issue cadence that has been missing for the past couple of years. It was hard doing this issue without the usual many years’ involvement of my dear poet friend, the late Judih Weinstein Haggai, but her poetry features in this issue nonetheless, & will remain so in each issue ever on.
Thus far, 2024 for the human world has been a fairly dark one. The global Pandemic has not ended, though millions risk sickness & death for themselves & others by choosing to join in a kind of mass amnesia about the crisis. Meanwhile, the climate crisis continues to get the same kind of hostile indifference. The genocide in Gaza goes on unabated by any of the many powerful & supposedly democratic nations of the world. And a likely felon has jazzed the US electoral process, its weaknesses & flaws among its many strengths, to be within reach of again taking over &, as he has vowed, taking revenge.
I can’t tell you that this literary journal operates toe to toe on the global scale to oppose these various human catastrophes, but I can say that if we don’t seek Beauty, & Nature, & look beyond the petty fuckeries of the current day, we are much more likely to be lost than if we find a way to do this.
This fine anniversary issue features new poetry by Tamara Miles, Martina Reisz Newberry, Colin James, Sam Knot, Jimmy Heffernan, Judih Weinstein Haggai, & myself.
Also new fiction by Timothy Vilgiate, Algernon Beagle, & myself. And classic fiction from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
And new prose pieces by Nathan D. Horowitz, Charlie Beyer, & myself.
There is also new graphic artwork by AbandonView, Epi Rogan, Louis Staeble, Kassandra Soulard, Sam Knot, Tamara Miles, & Nathan D. Horowitz.
Contents of this new issue include:
From Soulard’s Notebooks [Excerpt]
I find myself leaning back often into 3 questions that I believe most influence human psychology & human culture:
1) Why are we here?
2) Where are we from?
3) What are we supposed to be doing?
* * * * * *
Feedback on Cenacle 123 [Excerpt]
I made it to the first poem by Judih Weinstein Haggai, sank into it, breathed it, needed it, and couldn’t go further into the issue yet. But it’s beautiful. And Kassandra Soulard’s cover photo: wow.
(Tamara Miles)
* * * * * *
From the ElectroLounge Forums:
Selections from Unknot 24, Part 1[Excerpt]
A project that I expect to work on for the rest of my life and never finish is a kind of art project playing with meaning making and the first few layers of knots, so this is all part of that really. I suppose it is a way to give a kind of focus or even kind of “abstract grounding” to some other kind of activity which isn’t necessarily even directly related to or about it.
(Sam Knot)
* * * * * *
Haiku from a Silent Retreat (7/31/2021) [Excerpt]
by Judih Weinstein Haggai
Everybody!
Are you everybody?
I’m not either
* * * * * *
Notes from New England:
Dream Raps, Volume Thirteen [Excerpt]
by Raymond Soulard, Jr.
Now that my friends are gone, the very shy Creatures who sometimes visit my hovel begin to come out, sniffing friendly their hellos. Accept my offer to cluster with me under the blankets, them being cold as ever when outside of the White Woods. White Bunny, Hedgedyhog, Peppermint Bears, Kittees & their Friend Fish. Alvinarah Poesy, & his dear friend Naria Narwhal. Even that cackling little Imp is under there somewhere. They never stay long, but I love them passing through. They’re excited about the Rutabaga Festival & Fleastock in the White Woods, I’m guessing.
* * * * * *
Becoming Archaeology: A Eulogy for Living Moor. (Part Two) [Excerpt]
by Sam Knot
It moves me more than any painting
or poem, seems to encode more meaning,
personal & planetary, than any other art,
this simple offering. This intricate gift.
* * * * * *
Notes Toward Many Musics [Excerpt]
by Raymond Soulard, Jr.
I believe a Narrative should always lead with the best it has, its most potent moment or image or the like. And let this lead set its standard. When I think of the Narrative options for these poems, I come back every time to starting from the start. These poems build on years & years of the work it took to get the six Brother-Heroes reunited rightly, after telling their unique stories as rightly as possible too. I did the best thinking & writing that I could.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Martina Newberry [Excerpt]
Tall on the dirty stage,
from my notebook I conferred
my poems. No time limit,
no faces, noises of shifting
dust and cars out there somewhere,
I read for many minutes,
emoting here and there,
hands rising and falling,
singing through some.
* * * * * *
Rivers of the Mind (A Novel) [Excerpt]
by Timothy Vilgiate
I could not help but fear that he’d attack me as I laid there; I lost count of how many times I got up to check my locks or to peek underneath the bed. I turned over and over, rocking the mattress like an unsteady boat, straining to keep my eyes shut. It was no use. Midnight came, and I was still awake; my hair matted over my irritated face, my blanket clutched in between my hands over my mouth as I tried to stop myself from sobbing. But I couldn’t let it see me cry. I couldn’t let it even see me blink.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Tamara Miles [Excerpt]
A lion’s music—a carnival of sound, beyond the roar of reserve, park, zoo, circus, and
safari, the wild kingdom beyond the definition of safe and unsafe, cruel or kind, in
sub-Saharan Africa, or in India, Gir forest, where the heart beat and drum beat and
incense are heavy.
* * * * * *
The Lagoon of the Air Goblins (Travel Journal) [Excerpt]
by Nathan D. Horowitz
I’m dehydrated from the sun today. I haven’t rehydrated. My hydration’s out of wack. It seems an eternity, maybe two, since I ordered a glass of papaya juice. Inside the café, mysterious café things may be happening, involving blenders and workforce and fruit and power. Time’s ticking by and it sounds like trees falling into a river. I glance at the red and white checkered tablecloth and remember I’ve always hated red and white checkered patterns. Serafín the educator said he would meet me here to tell me about the Secoya cosmovision, and he isn’t showing up.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Colin James [Excerpt]
Episodically craved by adolescents,
Prometheus displays his tats
behind The Dollar Store in Bonita.
The one with the plastic pillars.
* * * * * *
Mad Jack (Prose) [Excerpt]
by Charlie Beyer
We were longhaired teenage criminals. I looked like Jesus and my best buddy had flaming red shoulder-length hair, the devil to rival my divine look. Scott the Red. We were all hair, except Mad Jack (or Bob, as I knew him), who was as shaved as a plastic bag. We all sat in the car outside the 7-11 in the night rain. Blue smoke trickled out of the cracked window. Inside was a haze of marijuana smoke tainted with opium. We were high and crazed.
* * * * * *
Poetry by Jimmy Heffernan [Excerpt]
The moment to which we have access
So Nature can “see” through time
And what is this but awareness?
A tunneling from the immediate future
Back into the present
* * * * * *
Bags End Book #21: What is the Creature Carnival? Part 3 (Fiction) [Excerpt]
by Algernon Beagle
It makes me remember how our teacher Mister Owl in Bags End teached how different places have their different ways of thinking & telling. So if you’re gonna watch a Creature production, whether it’s the Carnival, or a Grand Production, or this time both, you’re gonna be in 4or a good crazy ride.
* * * * * *
The Hound of the Baskervilles (Classic Fiction) [Excerpt]
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a “Penang lawyer.” Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. “To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,” was engraved upon it, with the date “1884.” It was just such a stick as the oldfashioned family practitioner used to carry—dignified, solid, and reassuring.
* * * * * *
Labyrinthine [A New Fixtion] [Excerpt]
by Raymond Soulard, Jr.
I’m distracted just as this strange fellow appears on stage with some kind of tool in his hand. He is very fancily dressed, some kind of home-made tuxedo? Or one sewn from many scraps? And he starts to recite a poem, I think, in a tongue I don’t know, when something distracts me.
Peace,
Raymond Soulard, Jr.
Scriptor Press New England
scriptorpress.com
[editor@scriptorpress.com](mailto:editor@scriptorpress.com)

[Slight ⚠️TW⚠️ For Mentions Of Verbal/Mental Abuse.]
The last MONTH or so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the last time my bio-father actually supported me. (I call him my “father” instead of “dad” because he is NOT a dad. He is simply a father. My stepdad gets the dad role.) This was about this time back in 2020. I had just switched my style and music taste up from like Katy Perry, JoJo Siwa, Ariana Grande, Taylor Swift; cupcakes and rainbows- to Johnnie Guilbert, Black Veil Brides, Andy Black, Jordan Sweeto, Shannon Taylor, and others like that. More dark of music and fashion taste (which I’m still into obviously). I was 11 (I’m 15 now btw). I was on social media, all of my accounts were private of course because I was in-fact only 11. I had selfies of me just learning how to do black eyeliner and wearing my first black lipstick on my Facebook. My aunt called up my father one day asking “what is up with the whole goth thing” in like not a supportive way. For the record it is/was emo, not goth (I’m a PopPunk Emo now, but still). My father answered with “Well, there’s not really much we can do about it. It’s not really hurting anything so there’s nothing we can do about it.” And that was the last time he actually supported me…
Since then, he’s told me things like “It’s good to have dreams but you gotta come back down to Earth because it’s never gonna happen!” Sure, my dreams are extreme, but with hard work and dedication it IS in-fact possible. He says I’ll never get my California custom mansion, my Lime-Green Lambo with the under-glow. Just tearing me down in general with other aspects. He doesn’t support how I’ve evolved since falling in love with dying my hair and falling in love with makeup. The mental/verbal abuse to my mom & I seems never ending. It’s over text too n stuff.
And that day back in 2020 was the last time my bio-father actually supported me. It like actually hurts. Being pushed aside and torn down for years on end has left behind a lot of stuff and changed my mind/brain for the worst. If it weren’t for my mom and grandma, I don’t know where I’d be in life or where I’d be headed. They’ve supported me since the beginning! I just can’t stop thinking about that day.. The last time he ACTUALLY supported me, and he ACTUALLY somewhat cared.

TL;DR at the bottom, but please read the whole thing before asking addtl questions if u have the time ❤️🙏🏽
Hello! I have a husky grand pyraneese mix, literally the most chill dog I've ever met in my life. I've taken him in and out of stores, parks, camping, we've gone bike riding together, I've had him in and out of shelters when I'd go there to volunteer, etc. He doesn't bark, he doesn't whine, he doesn't chew, he doesn't chase, he completely submissive to any dog or cat regardless of gender or size. I can't even describe how relaxed and amazing he is. He is one of a kind, the golden temperament.
His big BIG issue is recall. I've had him about a year and a half, and have CONSTANTLY worked with him, trying different methods even going to a trainer(when I had the $ to even do such a thing), he isn't /really/ food motivated, he isn't play motivated, and when he gets out he doesn't come back. His previous owner who had him from birth-1yr had the same issue. He's jumped every single fence I've ever had, and I can't afford a 10 foot tall privacy fence, which is the only fence I haven't seen him jump. I have three other dogs (chi-weenie, boxer, and blue heeler) who were all trained the exact same way(with minor changes like food for two who are food motivated, toys and excited pets for the one who's play motivated) , and they all have done just fine and listen great. The husky does everything I ask him perfectly, he was fully untrained (other than to potty outside) when I got him at 1 year old, didn't even sit. He's 2.5 now and he knows several commands(down, yes, no, sit, stay, stay sitting, lay down, stay laying down, wait, come sit [from kennel to sitting at feet]), and executes them all very well. except staying home/recall. He doesn't really dig to get out either, he just has major hops.
I either need unique suggestions on how to help his behavior that I hadn't already tried, or info on resources I can use to get him rehomed to a good home, and "foster" him until his home is found. He's the only pup I got at his age, the other three I had right at 8 weeks and raised myself. I know little about the home he previously came from, but I can say there were abt 12 other huskies/pyraneese free roaming the house, none of them where trained aside potty outside. His "owner" was the 18 y/o daughter in the house who worked at subway and admitted she fed him exclusively subway sandwhiches and human food, when I got him he refused dog food for days until he finally ate. It's been hard and I've worked with him ALOT, and he's come such a long way. Crate trained, and everything he's done SO GOOD. but this has been the one thing I haven't been able to budge on him, recall and staying home.
I had a couple who were fit, looking for a dog who likes to be active, and thats him (maybe just not so much in the summer haha, though he's hardier than a husky in the summer since he's half pyraneese, and most ppl w pyraneese have them outside all day and night as cattle dogs) . They absolutely fell in love with him, he truly has a golden personality. They had a gorgeous huge house with wooden fencing and kids (he's great with kids of all ages, cats, even cattle) they all meshed well. We all agreed he could spend the night, just to make sure it was a good fit. I'd come get him the next day, they'd talk it over, and go from there. My heart was shattered but I felt so happy he would have a yard he could run in and no longer be leashed up all the time, plus they promised I could come see him whenever. Well he jumped the fence there as well ( I think it was 8ft?) and they had to chase after him so they texted me asking to bring him back, of course I said yes immediately. I feel so bad for even trying to rehome him, especially now that he is back with me anyways.
Im not posting a Pic or anything bc I'm not trying to make this a buy/sell/trade post, but you can DM for pics if u want.
Just looking for the advice 😭😭
TL;DR: I have the perfect dog temperament and training wise, but his whole life he's been unable to kick his addiction of jumping fences then not having recall when you try to get him. I've tried everything I can, I need ideas on how to train him or info on rehoming programs that aren't state ran facilties that have kill lists. I can foster him until he has a home anyways, but I can't keep having him get loose no matter what I try.

"That's a load of bull!" Gus burst out, his laughter bouncing off the cozy walls of the small diner.
"Yeah, Tony. That's not how it went down at all," Vinny chimed in, a grin spreading across his face.
Tony leaned back in his chair, swirling the ice in his glass. "Alright, then spill the beans. What really happened?"
Gus shot Tony a playful glare, trying to stifle his laughter. "Come on, Tony, I'm not playing your game."
Tony chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a real character, Gus. Vinny, what's the scoop?"
"We got ourselves another Rossi problem," Vinny sighed.
Gus sat up straight, a frown creasing his forehead. "Rossi again? How much did he stiff us for this time?"
"The whole damn tab," Vinny replied, his expression grim.
Gus slammed his hand on the table. "The whole thing?"
He glanced around the diner, his mind racing. "Tony, get the car ready."
Tony quickly finished his drink and rose from his seat to fetch the car keys.
"Sammy!" Gus called out over his shoulder.
A tall, sharply dressed man hurried over to their table.
"Gus?"
"You got a smoke?" Gus asked, his voice calm despite the urgency in his demeanor.
Sammy reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. With a nod, he offered it to Gus.
Gus took a cigarette, then hesitated before accepting another. "Thanks," he muttered, tucking them into his shirt pocket.
"You're welcome, Gus," Sammy replied before heading back to the counter.
"Can't stand that guy," Gus murmured. "Talks like he's got a screw loose." Despite his annoyance, he chuckled softly, though a sharp pain shot through his side.
"Let's get moving. Tony's waiting," Gus declared, pushing himself up from the table.
As Gus and Vinny exited the diner, they found Tony waiting by the rear driver's door, already open for Gus. Gus climbed into the car while Vinny walked around to the passenger seat.
"Why can't Rossi just pay what he owes?" Gus grumbled, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket and placing it between his lips. "I'm not asking for the world."
Gus patted his pockets, searching for a lighter. "Vinny, got a light?"
Vinny reached behind the seat to retrieve a lighter and flicked it, igniting Gus's cigarette.
"Thanks," Gus muttered, taking a few puffs.
"Maybe business is slow for him?" Tony offered as he pulled away from the curb.
"All year?" Gus shot back, disbelief evident in his tone.
Tony fell silent, his focus on navigating the streets.
"I don't want to have to resort to drastic measures," Gus admitted, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I've always liked Rossi... but he's not leaving me much choice."
"What else can you do?" Vinny asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Gus remained silent, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window, lost in thought.
"Remember Beans?" Gus asked the car, his voice carrying a tinge of nostalgia.
"Beans?" Tony echoed, trying to jog his memory.
"Tall guy, slick hair? Used to run with Sonny's crew back in the day..." Gus prompted, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"Oh yeah, Beans. I remember him now. What about him?" Tony recalled.
"Beans had a brother named Larry," Gus continued, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Larry owes me twenty grand as of yesterday."
Tony's expression softened. "Oh, I see."
"Anyway, Beans fell off a boat a few years back," Gus added casually, his tone belying the gravity of the situation.
"Oh," Tony murmured, understanding the unspoken implications.
"I heard Little Larry moved out to Minnesota or something after Beans passed," Vinny chimed in from the passenger seat.
"Yeah, he did. But he's making a return trip for his sister's wedding," Gus explained.
"Vicky's getting married?" Tony asked, surprised.
"No, not Vicky. The other one," Gus clarified, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Vinny twisted around in his seat to gauge Gus's expression, realizing he wasn't joking.
"Who's the unlucky groom?" Tony inquired, intrigued.
"Some hotshot lawyer from Manhattan," Gus replied, his tone dripping with disdain.
"When's the wedding?" Vinny inquired, breaking the momentary silence.
"Today," Gus replied tersely.
"We're here," Tony announced, pulling the car to a stop in front of a quaint flower shop.
"What's the plan?" Vinny turned to Gus, anticipation evident in his voice.
"First, we deal with this Rossi mess..." Gus began, only to be interrupted by Tony.
"And what's the plan for that?" Tony interjected, his tone expectant.
Gus paused, considering his words carefully.
"Let's go," Gus declared, swinging the car door open and stepping out onto the street, with Tony and Vinny following suit.

"That's a load of bull!" Gus burst out, his laughter bouncing off the cozy walls of the small diner.
"Yeah, Tony. That's not how it went down at all," Vinny chimed in, a grin spreading across his face.
Tony leaned back in his chair, swirling the ice in his glass. "Alright, then spill the beans. What really happened?"
Gus shot Tony a playful glare, trying to stifle his laughter. "Come on, Tony, I'm not playing your game."
Tony chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a real character, Gus. Vinny, what's the scoop?"
"We got ourselves another Rossi problem," Vinny sighed.
Gus sat up straight, a frown creasing his forehead. "Rossi again? How much did he stiff us for this time?"
"The whole damn tab," Vinny replied, his expression grim.
Gus slammed his hand on the table. "The whole thing?"
He glanced around the diner, his mind racing. "Tony, get the car ready."
Tony quickly finished his drink and rose from his seat to fetch the car keys.
"Sammy!" Gus called out over his shoulder.
A tall, sharply dressed man hurried over to their table.
"Gus?"
"You got a smoke?" Gus asked, his voice calm despite the urgency in his demeanor.
Sammy reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. With a nod, he offered it to Gus.
Gus took a cigarette, then hesitated before accepting another. "Thanks," he muttered, tucking them into his shirt pocket.
"You're welcome, Gus," Sammy replied before heading back to the counter.
"Can't stand that guy," Gus murmured. "Talks like he's got a screw loose." Despite his annoyance, he chuckled softly, though a sharp pain shot through his side.
"Let's get moving. Tony's waiting," Gus declared, pushing himself up from the table.
As Gus and Vinny exited the diner, they found Tony waiting by the rear driver's door, already open for Gus. Gus climbed into the car while Vinny walked around to the passenger seat.
"Why can't Rossi just pay what he owes?" Gus grumbled, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket and placing it between his lips. "I'm not asking for the world."
Gus patted his pockets, searching for a lighter. "Vinny, got a light?"
Vinny reached behind the seat to retrieve a lighter and flicked it, igniting Gus's cigarette.
"Thanks," Gus muttered, taking a few puffs.
"Maybe business is slow for him?" Tony offered as he pulled away from the curb.
"All year?" Gus shot back, disbelief evident in his tone.
Tony fell silent, his focus on navigating the streets.
"I don't want to have to resort to drastic measures," Gus admitted, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I've always liked Rossi... but he's not leaving me much choice."
"What else can you do?" Vinny asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Gus remained silent, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window, lost in thought.
"Remember Beans?" Gus asked the car, his voice carrying a tinge of nostalgia.
"Beans?" Tony echoed, trying to jog his memory.
"Tall guy, slick hair? Used to run with Sonny's crew back in the day..." Gus prompted, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"Oh yeah, Beans. I remember him now. What about him?" Tony recalled.
"Beans had a brother named Larry," Gus continued, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Larry owes me twenty grand as of yesterday."
Tony's expression softened. "Oh, I see."
"Anyway, Beans fell off a boat a few years back," Gus added casually, his tone belying the gravity of the situation.
"Oh," Tony murmured, understanding the unspoken implications.
"I heard Little Larry moved out to Minnesota or something after Beans passed," Vinny chimed in from the passenger seat.
"Yeah, he did. But he's making a return trip for his sister's wedding," Gus explained.
"Vicky's getting married?" Tony asked, surprised.
"No, not Vicky. The other one," Gus clarified, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Vinny twisted around in his seat to gauge Gus's expression, realizing he wasn't joking.
"Who's the unlucky groom?" Tony inquired, intrigued.
"Some hotshot lawyer from Manhattan," Gus replied, his tone dripping with disdain.
"When's the wedding?" Vinny inquired, breaking the momentary silence.
"Today," Gus replied tersely.
"We're here," Tony announced, pulling the car to a stop in front of a quaint flower shop.
"What's the plan?" Vinny turned to Gus, anticipation evident in his voice.
"First, we deal with this Rossi mess..." Gus began, only to be interrupted by Tony.
"And what's the plan for that?" Tony interjected, his tone expectant.
Gus paused, considering his words carefully.
"Let's go," Gus declared, swinging the car door open and stepping out onto the street, with Tony and Vinny following suit.